The Wedding
by nikkimurray
Summary: What if Jenny's engagement was never broken off . . .
1. The invite

**Woop! Exam results back out and (not to toot my own horn) I did much better than I expected with a 2.1 :D So how shall I celebrate? Hmm . . . by writing another fanfic me thinks! And as I've just found out that Lucy Brown is returning to primeval some time in series 4, there is much celebration needed :)**

**This takes place in series three with two changes: Helen didn't try and kill Cutter, and Jenny's engagement was never broken off. I'll try and update as often as I can.**

**And so begins our story . . .**

Chapter 1

Cutter sat in his office, hunched over his desk, fingering a lace-bordered cream-coloured invitation moodily. Every time he glanced down at the gold-inked name, it felt as though some one had thrown a bucket of ice over him.

_Dear Nicholas Cutter,_

_John and Felicity Lewis invite you to the wedding of their daughter, Jennifer Lewis, to Mark Banks, son of Mary and Francis Banks . . ._

The first time he had read it, it was the equivalent of taking a bullet, but now it was more of a dull constant ache in his heart. It was bad enough when he had found out she had a fiancé, but at least then it was only a probability . . . people got engaged all the time, but it didn't necessarily mean that marriage would be the eventuality. Some couples stayed engaged for years, and some broke it off before the china patterns had been chosen. But this looked like this was actually going ahead. Cutter sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his creased forehead in a futile attempt to elevate some of the tension. The thought of her getting married . . . the thought of her starting a family . . . it was unbearable. She'd be a wife. A _wife_. How could he even begin to comprehend that? A long time ago, he had come to terms with the fact that she was not Claudia Brown, but it hadn't seemed to have changed the way he felt about her. He loved her, it was as simple as that. And there was no way he could watch her get married to someone else. He was sure the invitation was just a formality anyway. After all, he and Jenny hadn't exactly gotten off to the greatest start. Admittedly, they had been getting along better of late, but he was sure that he had only received an invitation because she had invited the rest of the team, and it would have been bad form to leave out the 'team leader'. She probably expected him to say no.

He glanced back down at the invite, re-reading it for what felt like the millionth time. It seemed to be one of those weddings that Cutter had always considered overly extravagant. Apparently, they had hired out the entirety of some posh hotel in the middle of no-where . . . _how romantic, _he thought to himself sourly. All the wedding party were booked into a room to spend the night; all the men would join Mark for the stag-do in one wing of the hotel, and all the women would be with Jenny for the hen party in another. Then the next day would be the wedding. Just the thought of being stuck with Jenny's husband -to-be the night before she married him was Cutter's idea of hell. There was no way he was going . . .

There was a knock on his door, and Conner poked his head around.

"Ah, you got one too?" he said as he entered the room fully, gesturing at the disheveled invitation on Cutter's desk.

"Aye," Cutter sighed bitterly.

"Great, well Abby and Sarah are going up with the Jenny, so there's only four of us. I reckon we bug Lester to take us in his car, I'd love a spin in that - "

"Hang on," Cutter interrupted abruptly. "I'm not actually going to _go_."

Conner's smile faltered. "Why not?"

"I - I just can't," Cutter lied lamely, avoiding making eye contact.

Conner paused, and approached the desk slightly, and when he spoke, his voice was low as though he feared being overheard.

"I know you and Jenny don't get on very well - "

"We get on just fine," Cutter interjected gruffly.

"- but it is her wedding, Cutter. Her _wedding_. It's a pretty big deal. And she _is_ one of the team."

"I can't come," Cutter repeated firmly. "I might be needed here."

"Lester's organised a temp team while we're gone, it'll be fine," Conner waved away his excuses airily. "So if we leave tomorrow about midday - "

"Conner, you're not listening to me - "

"I am listening, but I'm choosing to ignore you," Conner said with a smile, obviously trying to joke him out of his mood. Cutter glared back at him, unmoving, so he rearranged his expression into a pleading look. "Please Cutter! You can't leave me alone with Lester for the weekend - "

"Becker will be there," Cutter pointed out.

"That's not much better!" Conner retorted. "Please! Just forget for a minute how much it'll hurt Jenny if you don't go . . . do it for me!"

"Conner - "

"_Please!"_ he begged, his hands clasped together in a gesture of prayer. "I'll do anything! I'll . . . I'll clean your office for you - "

"No - "

"I'll . . . I'll pay for all your drinks when we get there!" Conner continued, waggling his eyebrows. "Eh?"

"The invitation says free bar," Cutter pointed out, holding up the evidence.

Conner sighed and looked down at his feet, his brow furrowed. Silence fell between them for a few moments; the student shuffling his feet stubbornly on the overly-polished floor.

Finally, unable to bare the stand-off any longer -

"Oh alright!" Cutter burst out, throwing his arms up in the air helplessly. "Alright!"

"Super cool!" Conner beamed. "So be ready to go at midday tomorrow."

And with that, he bounced off, leaving Cutter to his musing. He leaned back in his chair, sucking in a ragged breath of the ARC's sterilised, regulated air. How was he going to watch her as she got married? He raised his hand and rubbed it over his temple. Then again, maybe it was good that he witnessed it; maybe then, he'd finally be able to accept that he could never be with her in that way . . .

There was another knock on his door, but instead of Conner, it was Jenny that strode into his office, making his heart jump involuntarily into his throat. He met her gaze, and she offered him a weak smile.

"I just need you to fill in some more forms about the Jurassic anomaly the other day," she said, her sweet voice making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

"I- I thought I was done with all that," he stammered, everting his eyes to his desk to stop himself staring at her.

"Well it was a rather . . . nasty situation," she grimaced, flopping a bunch of papers on his desk.

Cutter sighed loudly, and chanced a glance up at her, watching as she tucked her hair behind her ear, and ignoring the pang he felt as her engagement ring sparkled in the false light. She raised her eyebrow at him slightly, obviously irritated by his unwillingness to work.

"Well surprisingly Cutter, chasing you around for paperwork isn't exactly the highlight of my day either," she said curtly. "But it has to be - " she stopped talking abruptly, her eyes falling on the rather tattered invitation resting by his hand. "Oh," she continued, "so . . . so you got the invite then?"

"Aye," Cutter nodded, staring determinately at his desk.

"Right, well . . . are you coming?"

"I, er - yes. Yes I am," he said quietly.

"Oh," she said again, sounding slightly taken aback. "That's - that's good."

"Yeah," Cutter replied, feeling the tension in the room mount.

"Well . . . great," she nodded, turning to leave. "So, I'll . . . I'll see you there then."

"Well, I'll probably see you before then," Cutter pointed out.

She turned, her face set into a look of confusion. "Right, yeah, well I'll see you both of those then's," she stammered, accidently falling into the door, banging her back on it hard.

Cutter stood up, watching her with open concern. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said immediately, struggling with the doorknob. "I'm fine." She wrenched open the door. "Bye."

"Bye," Cutter replied, feeling bemused as she shut the door behind herself.

* * *

Jenny slammed Cutter's office door closed, and squeezed her eyes shut, cringing with embarrassment. Not exactly the most dignified exit she'd had. Shaking her head, she made her way back to her own office, her thoughts running a mile a minute. He was coming. He was coming to her _wedding_ - now she hadn't expected that. He had to know the invitation was a formality, didn't he? It's not like they were bosom buddies or anything. She had just assumed he would make up some lame excuse.

She reached the warm familiarity of her office, and sunk into her chair, reclining back with a sigh. It really shouldn't bother her this much - so what if Cutter was coming? She'd be so busy that she'd hardly see him anyway. But still . . . the thought of him hanging out with Mark at the stag party . . . the thought of him watching as she promised herself to another man . . . well quite frankly, it caused her to flush. For reasons that she didn't understand, and certainly didn't want to examine, it made her feel nervous.

After pondering this for a few moments, she straightened up and shook herself mentally. She had more important things to worry about than Nick Cutter; flowers, seating charts, bridesmaid dresses . . . why did it matter if he was going? She really didn't care.

_She didn't._


	2. The drive

Chapter 2

Jenny pulled up outside Sarah's house, honking the horn as she did so. As she waited, she lifted up her sunglasses and scrutinized the baby blue, cloud-free sky above.

_It better stay like that, _she thought to herself, replacing her glasses on her nose as Sarah and Abby made their way to the car with two heavy-looking overnight bags.

Jenny opened the boot for them and turned down the radio as they got in, Abby in front and Sarah in the back.

"Thanks for driving us," Abby said happily as she snapped her seat belt into place. "I didn't have a clue where this place was."

"No problem," Jenny replied with a smile as he pulled out.

"Although you really didn't have to," Sarah chimed in, leaning forward with her elbows on both seats. "I'm sure you've got all sorts of family members to worry about without having to escort us."

Jenny laughed. "Are you kidding me? You've done me a massive favour. If I wasn't driving you two, I'd have to drive up with my Mother, and believe me, a two hour drive with her would make me want to kill myself. Or kill her."

Sarah chuckled and sat back in her seat.

The drive there was quite long, but they chatted away so much so that it felt like they were nearly there in no time. They kept the conversation light and fluffy, which Jenny appreciated - she was stressed enough without having to answer a dozen questions about the wedding. It was nice to speak to someone without discussing seating plans. But sure enough, the wedding topic came up anyway, which Jenny had expected - after all, they were on their way to it.

"So, how are you holding up?" Abby asked politely, winding down her window so that a gentle breeze circulated through the car. "Nervous?"

Jenny paused for a moment before replying, "No, it's not so much nerves as it is worry about something going wrong. I've still got a million and one things to do today."

"Isn't Mark helping you?" Sarah asked.

Jenny laughed; it was only at times like this when she was outside the ARC with Sarah and Abby that she realised how little they actually knew about her life. Sure, they knew her work self when she was in PR mode, they knew her scared self when they were cornered by some terrifying creature, and they knew her 'milling around the ARC small talking' self, but they really didn't know _her_. Then again, they probably understood her a hell of a lot better than most of her other friends and family; at least they knew what she did for a living.

"Er, no, he's not the party-planning sort of guy," Jenny answered eventually.

"Well, what's he like?" Abby asked curiously, looking at her with polite interest.

"Well he's . . ." Jenny began thoughtfully. ". . . handsome . . ."

She paused again, thinking hard for another trait that she found attractive about the man she was about to marry. But she drew a complete blank.

"So . . ." Sarah said eventually, sounding amused. "You're marrying him for his looks?"

"No," Jenny insisted quickly, glad that she was wearing sunglasses to hide her expression. "He's . . . erm . . . he's smart, and . . . hard working . . ."

"What does he do?"

"He's an equity-marketing manager."

"What's that?"

"Er . . . if I'm honest, I have no idea," Jenny laughed humorlessly.

"You don't know?" Abby repeated in disbelief.

"Well it's not like he knows what I do, does he?" Jenny reasoned, taking a sharper turn than was really necessary as she felt herself getting flustered with all the questions.

"Are you going to tell him after you're married?" Sarah probed. "About the anomalies and the creatures and everything?"

Again, Jenny hesitated before replying. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it before; after all it would be easier to explain why she had to cancel on their dinner plans, or why she was too busy to go to his endless number of work events. However, she doubted very much that he'd believe her anyway. But if she was honest with herself, that wasn't really the reason why she didn't want him to know; it was that a small part of her felt almost possessive of her secret. It was her business. Her's and her's alone, and she liked that fact. It was something that she didn't want him to be a part of.

"That's a good question . . ." she said slowly, being careful of how much to say. "Erm no, I don't think I will."

"But what about when you start having kids?" Abby asked.

"Kids!" Jenny shrieked, feeling her blood pressure rise for reasons unknown. "We - well - we haven't got any plans for kids at the moment."

"But that'll probably change after you're married - " Abby began, but Jenny cut her off before she could finish.

"Look, can we just stop talking about marriage and kids for one minute," she snapped, clutching the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles had turned white.

Silence fell in the car for a moment.

Jenny felt a pang of guilt as she saw Abby look out of the window with a slightly stung expression. Obviously they were going to be curious; even though they had been thrown together in unusual circumstances, Jenny still considered them her friends, and friends were interested in aspects of each other's lives. Why were all the questions bothering her so much? Was it cold feet? No it couldn't be . . . she had been planning this day feverishly for over a year now, and she loved Mark, she _did_. Maybe it was because she was unsure as to whether Abby and Sarah would fit in with the other guests at the hen party? Yes that was probably it . . . after all, Jenny was beginning to question how much she herself fit into her old world after a year at the ARC. If anything was going to change a person, encountering and battling all manners of prehistoric creatures was it. And lately, Jenny had found her mind wondering whenever she was hanging out with her old friends, finding their usual conversations such as who was sleeping with who rather dreary and pointless. She would find herself longing to be in the company of the ARC team (though maybe not Cutter, as he couldn't seem to stand her half the time). They were the only people who understood her.

"Look, I'm sorry," Jenny sighed eventually, relaxing her grip on the steering wheel. "I'm just a bit stressed, that's all."

"No, I'm sorry," Abby said. "I was just wondering how you cope with it all; I can't imagine what it'd be like marrying someone you had to lie to every day, but it's going to happen to all of us eventually I suppose."

"Hmm," Jenny agreed, although she privately thought that she didn't really mind lying to Mark about her job, and with a jolt, she wondered what that said about her.

"Hey, is that the boys?" Sarah interjected, leaning into the front and pointing to a sleek black car to their right.

Jenny lifted up her glasses again for a better look, and saw that she was right. Their cars passenger seat windows were open, and Conner was dangling his elbow out of the back seat, laughing at something. Cutter was in the front, next to who she assumed was Lester, who was driving. He was slouched awkwardly, gazing absently out of the window.

"It is!" Abby laughed, leaning over to Jenny and pressing the horn down.

"Abby!" Jenny hissed, her cheeks flushing as a deafening beep reigned out, causing everyone in the vicinity to turn and stare at them.

But Abby didn't register her chiding as she was too busy waving at the other car. Jenny returned her gaze to them, and saw Conner was beaming and waving frantically back at them. Cutter glanced around and nodded with a small smile at Jenny, before abruptly looking away again. Jenny gulped silently, and dropped her glasses back down, focusing her attention back on the road and batting away the knot of excitement that had flared up in her stomach when her gaze locked with Cutter's for that split second.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _she thought to herself as she turned into the driveway of the hotel, Lester's car right behind them.

She pulled up outside the hotel, and they all got out as Lester's car stopped behind them.

"Holy crap, you're rich," Sarah gasped, slamming the car door shut and looking up at the hotel in awe.


	3. The introduction

Chapter 3

The hotel they had arrived at reminded Cutter of something he had seen in a Disney movie; it's grounds were breathtakingly beautiful with plush green lawns that stretched for miles around the place; there was a bed of vigorously pruned roses every couple of yards, and a magnificent stone fountain stood proudly in the centre, with water trickling thickly down from the trumpet held high by a huge cherub. The hotel itself looked more like a castle; enormous, grand and foreboding, which made Cutter's mind wonder to thinking how much this must have cost to hire out for two days. More than he made in a year, most likely.

He got out of the car with his bag as Lester handed his keys over to a hotel attendant that had run down the steps upon their arrival.

"Wow Jenny, this place is incredibly!" Conner exclaimed, shouldering his own bag and staring up at the hotel with a shocked expression that mirrored Cutter's own feelings.

"Thanks," Jenny replied absently, her eyes flickering up at the hotel casually. "Do you lot want to go and get yourselves checked in before the rush, and we'll meet back down in the lobby about seven?"

Everyone nodded and murmured in agreement, pulling their luggage towards the entrance. Becker stopped Sarah and Abby, and took their bags for them, pulling them over his shoulder. Cutter made to follow, but Jenny stopped him.

"Can I have a quick word Nick?"

He froze and nodded slightly, worried that she might actually be able to hear his heart hammering against his ribs. He followed her as she walked over to the fountain.

"It's just that - well, as you didn't R.S.V.P." she paused, giving him a chiding look for being so remiss. "I didn't know you were coming, so I didn't have a room ready for you, so is it okay that I've put you in with Conner?"

"Oh . . ." Cutter replied, bitter disappointment burning inside him. Then again, what was he expecting her to have pulled him aside for?

"There are two separate beds in the room if that's what you're worried about," she added quickly. "I thought you'd prefer that than sharing a room with Lester . . ."

He hitched a grin on his face. "Yeah. Yeah that's fine. It's great actually."

Her face relaxed into a relieved smile, as she looked away at the hotel again.

"Bit over-the-top, isn't it?" she whispered, catching Cutter by surprise.

"No . . ." he lied immediately, sensing that she felt a bit embarrassed at the extravagance of the place.

"Yeah, it is," she sighed. "Not my idea . . . my mother was insistent on the place. She and my dad got married here."

"It's beautiful," Cutter insisted.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, looking at the fountain. "But I'm not sure it's me . . . not any more. What did you and Helen do for your wedding?"

Cutter laughed slightly. "It was a registry office and a bag of chips on the way home for us."

"How romantic," Jenny said sarcastically, tracing lines in the water of the fountain gently with her finger.

"Helen wasn't really one for the romance," Cutter reminisced. "No, it was all about practicality with her."

Jenny smiled, but didn't look up at him, seemingly too interested in the water. Silence fell between them for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence unlike the usual toxic, suffocating silences they normally shared. Internally, Cutter was wrestling with himself.

_Just tell her how you feel before it's too late! _one voice said insistently.

_She's about to marry someone else, she doesn't want you! _another voice interjected.

_But maybe if she knew you loved her, she'd reconsider!_

_Oh stop kidding yourself, why would she want you when she's about to marry a handsome, wealthy man? Get over yourself!_

_But she did just say that she wasn't sure if this was 'her' anymore. That has to mean something, doesn't it?_

"Jenny?" Cutter said, before he could stop himself.

She looked up at him; he could see her eyes behind her sunglass lenses focusing on him. He took a deep breath, and continued, trying to stop his hands from shaking as he did so.

"I - I need to tell you something."

"Oh?" she said, straightening up.

He paused for a few moments, the confidence he had managed to conjure rapidly ebbing away.

"Tell me," she pushed gently.

_Just do it! Just do it . . . even if she tell's you to get lost, at least you know you did what you could . . . no regrets . . ._

"I - " he began, but he stopped as a loud engine sounded.

They both turned, and watched as a fancy silver car pulled up outside the hotel entrance and five men got out; the driver looking horribly familiar to Cutter even at this distance.

"And there's my beautiful bride!" the man smiled cheesily, his voice carrying over to where they stood. _Mark_.

Jenny pulled off her sunglasses and placed them on her head, smiling.

"You're not supposed to be here until later," she shouted over at him, although she didn't look too cross.

Mark laughed, throwing his keys to another hotel attendant casually, who fumbled to catch them.

"If there's a scratch on that car when I see it next, you're getting sued," he added to the poor man, who looked terrified.

_Charming, _Cutter though to himself, feeling rather disgusted at Mark's rudeness. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jenny giving him a fleeting glance, before she returned her gaze to her 'husband-to-be'.

"You're not meant to see me before the wedding," she stated, as he walked over to the two of them.

"Well, now that that's ruined, then maybe we could scrap this silly rule and share the same room tonight?"

"Not a chance," Jenny shook her head.

Cutter shuffled his feet awkwardly, wondering if he could just walk away and go inside the hotel rather than have to listen to them together. But he knew it would look incredibly rude, so he stayed rooted to the ground.

"Well, it was worth a try," Mark grinned as he reached them, leaning in to kiss Jenny. At the last second, it seemed, she turned her face so that he pecked her on the cheek instead - maybe this was just as awkward for her as it was for Cutter? But why would it be?

"And this is . . . ?" Mark said as he straightened up, his eyes on Cutter.

"Oh, sorry," Jenny said, looking flustered. "Mark, this is Nick Cutter, my colleague, and Nick, this is Mark."

Mark held out his hand, which Cutter took. Whether it was his imagination or not, he was unsure, but Cutter could have sworn that he was squeezing his hand a bit too tightly.

"Nice to meet you," Mark said, scrutinizing Cutter as he did so.

"Same," Cutter nodded, trying to keep the venom out of his voice.

After a brief moment, Mark loosened his grip and dropped his hand, focusing his attention back on Jenny.

"Do you need help in with your bags?"

"No, mum's bringing all my things," Jenny said, rather bitterly. "She said she didn't trust me with the wedding dress. Although I can't remember the last time I set a dress alight - "

"Right, well let's go and get checked in then," Mark continued, putting his arm around her waist. "Nick," he added with a nod as they passed him. Jenny turned her head and glanced at Cutter over Mark's shoulder.

"I'll see you later, okay?" she said to him.

Cutter watched them as they went, observing how tight Mark was holding her to him. From a distance, it looked as though she was giving the man a strange look, trying to loosen the arm that was snaked around her.


	4. The hen do

**Sorry for the long delay in updating, but I shall make it up to you by updating at least a chapter every day for a while. Let me know what you think :D x**

* * *

Chapter 4

Jenny leaned over towards the mirror in her hotel room, pursing her lips and applying a layer of rouge lipstick, feeling butterflies fluttering in her stomach uncomfortably. This generally wasn't like her at all; she didn't get nervous about things like this. She was usually a natural exhibitionist, preferring to be in the spotlight rather than looking on in from the side lines. Well that was how she used to feel anyway. Now however, she couldn't help but feel that something was amiss. Maybe it was because of joining the anomaly project, but now, as she thought about it, she felt rather uncomfortable being the centre of attention, perhaps because she felt if people took too closer look at her life that they'd see through her closely guarded secret. The secret being the anomalies of course. What else would she be keeping to herself?

She stood back and smoothed her black silk dress down, taking a deep breath. She was absolutely dreading this evening; any amount of time spent with her mother was always torture, and to be stuck in a room with her all night was her idea of hell. In fact, hell would probably be a nice reprieve in comparison. A lot of other women would be there of course; old friends, aunties, cousins, the lot. But her mother always had the knack of getting Jenny to sit next to her at events like this, and so she was always driven to pounding the Chardonnay whilst being bombarded with passive-aggressive comments. Tonight, however, she did have Abby and Sarah there, which would be a welcome relief. She enjoyed their company, unlike most of the other women she was to encounter this evening, with the exception of a couple of close friends and cousins she had grown up with. They were so different to any of the other women Jenny had met before, and when she was with them, she felt more herself than ever. Which was very strange, as she was sure her 'old' self wouldn't have found their company as endearing. Maybe she had changed. But she was sure it was for the better; she certainly felt like a better person now that her life was about more than fashion and money. She felt like she finally had a purpose, and despite what her mother felt, it was not just to marry a rich man and have beautiful children. She was _helping_ people, and it felt good; it felt really good.

There was a knock on her door, and Jenny closed her eyes for a second, sighing inwardly.

_Please don't let it be my mum . . ._ she prayed, slowly walking to the door.

Thankfully, it wasn't; it was Abby and Sarah.

"Hello," Jenny said, surprised. "Is everything alright in your rooms?"

"Oh, yes everything's amazing," Abby replied with a smile. "I've never stayed in a place as lovely as this before."

"We just thought, well, we didn't really know where to go, so we thought we'd go down with you," Sarah added.

"Yeah, that's fine," Jenny smiled. "Just let me get my purse . . ."

She rustled around her room for a second, finally locating her bag on the other side of the bed.

"Right, lets go," she said, locking her door behind her.

As they walked down the corridor, Jenny noticed how lovely they were both dressed. Abby was wearing a light blue floaty dress with white heels, and as Jenny was used to seeing her in combats and a tee-shirt, she looked very unusual, but beautiful at the same time. Sarah was wearing a tight red dress, and looked stunning.

"So, what's this thing going to be like then?" Abby asked curiously as they waited for the lift.

"Probably a soul-crushingly dull sit around," Jenny sighed.

"You didn't organize it?" Sarah enquired as the lift opened in front of them.

"Unfortunately no," Jenny informed them, pressing the button for the Lobby. "My Maid-of-Honor did, Olivia. She's been my friend since school."

"Why do you think it's going to be dull then?"

"Because my mum will have had it under her own strict regulations," Jenny pointed out.

"Maybe they'll surprise you and a male stripper will burst in mid-way through?" Sarah suggested with a rye smile.

"I wish!" Jenny laughed. "But I think my mum would have an aneurism or something!"

They all giggled until the doors opened on the ground floor, and as they stepped out, Jenny immediately spotted Cutter and the rest of the team milling around, talking and looking incredibly awkward. They all looked handsome in their suits, especially Cutter who looked surprisingly dashing. He could really carry off a suit, Jenny had to admit. As they approached, the men all turned, looking (for lack of a better word) gob-smacked at their appearance. Conner in particular was in danger of needing his tongue rolling back into his mouth as he gapped at Abby.

"Ladies," Cutter nodded, glancing at Jenny before quickly looking overly interested in the plant pot next to them.

There was a murmur of general greetings, except for Conner, who looked as though he would never speak again.

"So, I think you lot are in function room C . . ." Jenny strained to remember where the stag party was taking place. "It's down that corridor," she pointed to a hall to the right of the Lobby, "and take the second left, and then the first right; it's a massive room, you won't miss it."

The men all nodded and said their goodbyes, walking off together down the corridor, Cutter glancing back at her as he went.

"Right, come on then," Jenny sighed, indicating the opposite corridor they were to follow to get to the hen party. "Let's get this over with."

"It might not be so bad," Abby reasoned as they walked.

"Hmm," Jenny said doubtfully. "I'll remind you that you said that when you're engrossed in a debate of whether it's more important to marry a self-made millionaire, or a man with good breeding."

* * *

Thankfully, Jenny found herself seated by Abby and Sarah after milling around the party for an hour, making small talk with everyone. Having not eaten much that day, the champagne had gone straight to her head, and by the pleasantly glazed looks on Abby and Sarah's faces, the feeling was entirely mutual on their part. The room they were in was massive, and had a buffet table across one wall that Jenny hadn't made it too, and nor did she predict she would if the alcohol kept flowing. Two gigantic pink couches curled across in a concave shape facing each other, big enough to seat all the women in the room quite comfortably.

Everyone was settling down around them, Jenny's mother taking a seat opposite, next to Mark's mum, who Jenny also detested. As Jenny made small talk with Abby and Sarah, she heard her mother's voice reign out over the noise to a terrified looking waiter.

"This isn't absolute Gin," she scoffed at him, gesturing down at her drink. "I ordered absolute."

"I assure you Mam, it_ is_ absolute," the waiter squeaked, the hand that held the tray of drinks shaking violently.

"Oh, big mistake," Jenny whispered to Abby, cringing inside.

"Are you calling me a liar?" her mother snapped; the poor man cowering under her rage. "Because if so, I would like to speak to your superior."

Everyone in the room had gone quite to watch the argument, most of them looking in agreement with her mothers unreasonable request.

"No, of course not," the waiter stammered, taking the glass out of her hands. "Let me get you another . . ."

He scurried off as fast as his legs could carry him, still shaking from head-to-toe. Jenny's mum looked back around at the group with a satisfied smile.

"Like it's a hard job to do," she tittered, and everyone in the room bar Jenny, Abby and Sarah laughed.

"Absolutely right, Felicity," Mark's mother nodded. "These people! They think we'll pay a fortune for substandard service."

"They just need a firm hand Mary," she replied, nodding wisely. "They're obviously not the brightest bulbs in the box. I mean, serving for a living - "

Jenny glanced around at Abby and Sarah, who were surveying her mother as if they couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"What would she say if she found out I'm a zoo keeper?" Abby asked in a whisper to Jenny, who felt a burning embarrassment in her stomach.

"Who cares," Jenny reassured her as the noise of the party grew around them again. "And by the way, you're hardly a zoo keeper any more are you?"

"Yeah I am, I just deal with completely different species now," Abby smirked. Technically, that was true, but a more appropriate term would be probably be a dinosaur-wrangler, Jenny thought to herself with a smile.

* * *

This party had turned out a lot better than Jenny had expected, and she was actually enjoying herself. A while ago, she had been physically forced into a joke veil by a group of her cousins, which was good fun, and even her mum seemed to be on her best behavior after the waiter fiasco. As she and Abby were teasing Sarah over the rather stunning sight of Becker in a suit, the sound of tinkling could be heard. Jenny's friend Olivia had stood up on top of the couch, swaying alarmingly, and was tapping a spoon against the crystal glass in her hands.

"Just a short speech, I promise," she laughed as the group fell silent. "I just wanted to make a toast . . . to our Jenny," she raised her glass, smiling at Jenny, who grinned and raised her own glass. "Tomorrow, she finally joins us in the bitter old wives club. Now some of us thought this day would never come," she looked around at the group with a mischievous grin. "We thought, what man would ever be able to tame this shrew!" Everyone laughed, including Jenny. "But thankfully, Mark stepped up to the challenge. You two make a beautiful couple, so at least if things don't work out, your children will be Hollywood stars with those genes," again, everyone laughed. "So here's to Jenny," she raised her glass even higher, and everyone followed suit. "And to her maidenhead, which Mark will be claiming tomorrow."

Jenny shrieked and clasped her hands to her mouth, and everyone fell about with laughter.

"I think that was claimed a long time ago!" another of Jenny's friends, Claire, shouted out, making everyone laugh harder, except Jenny, who buried her face in her hands, mortified that that was said in front of her mother.

However, when she looked up, her mum seemed to be taking it in her stride, and was laughing along with everyone else.

"And to celebrate this iconic stepping stone in her life," Olivia continued, beaming at Jenny. "We have a little treat . . . well it's more of a treat for Mark tomorrow night, as what sort of friends would we be if we sent you into married life without your war gear? So Tina . . . HIT IT!"

Bemused, Jenny looked towards a side door which everyone had focused on. Music suddenly boomed out from the sound system, and in walked a six-foot-something leggy woman Jenny didn't know, donning a pure white corset, coupled with white french knickers. She strutted into the room, turned and struck a modeling pose, before walking out of the door again. She passed another woman who took her place, this one wearing a red bra-and-knickers set with a see through magenta wrap.

"Oh my God," Jenny breathed sinking down the couch with shame as everyone clapped joyfully to the music.

"You have to pick one Jen!" Olivia shouted over the noise, plonking herself back down. "I reckon the white one, you can wear it under your dress!"

"Maybe we should send these along to the boys instead!" Claire laughed.

Woman after woman trotted out, wearing every type of sexy underwear imaginable, making Jenny sink lower and lower, feeling herself growing bright red.

* * *

After Jenny reluctantly, and after much cajoling, picked out the white corset set for her wedding night, everyone settled down, and were chatting away happily.

"I hope you won't be making us wait too long for grandchildren Jennifer!" Mark's mother slurred over to her.

Jenny felt her heart sinking as the conversation she was dreading reared it's ugly head.

"Yes," Jenny's mum agreed. "I expect to hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet immediately!"

"After picking that underwear, I'd be surprised if they weren't announcing she's pregnant next week!" Olivia interjected.

Jenny could feel the pressure of their words mounting on her; the same way she felt any time anyone from Mark to her mother brought the subject of babies up. She _did_ want children eventually, but with working at the ARC, and what with Mark being . . . well _Mark _. . . she was nowhere near ready to start a family.

"Don't count on it," she informed them, accepting another drink from the waiter. "We're not - well, we're not really thinking about that at the moment."

"Mark told me he want's children as soon as you're married," Mark's mother interjected.

Jenny sighed; why did he have to be such a bloody mummy's boy? That truth was he had been pestering her about kids for a while now, since they'd moved in together in fact. She had always put him off, saying that she wanted to wait until they were married, but it's not like that excuse would hold out any longer. In truth, the reason why she didn't want children was that the thought of being stuck at home with screaming babies while Mark was working all hours was her worst nightmare. Especially since she loved her job; she wouldn't give that up for anything or anyone, not even Mark.

"You alright?" Abby's voice roused her from her thoughts.

"Yes," she said, looking up with a fake smile hitched on her face. "I'm fine . . . but I think I might go and get some air," she added, standing up, unnoticed by the rest of the party.

"Do you want us to go with you?" Sarah asked.

"No, I'm fine," she repeated. "I'll be right back . . ."

She meandered her way out of the room, craving fresh air on her face to wash away the tension that had mounted up so suddenly and unexpectedly inside her. Why was everyone putting so much pressure on her to procreate? It's not like she was some mindless baby machine; why did everyone think that she had no more to offer the world except for that?


	5. The stag do

Chapter 5

Becker had made it back to the table with the round of drinks, pushing a neat whisky in front of Cutter. They had been there for hours, and everyone was well on their way to a good evening . . . everyone except Cutter. He had tried to lose himself in the conversation with Lester, Conner and Becker; he had tried to forget that this was meant to be a celebration of Jenny's wedding . . . but he couldn't. Every time he glanced up, he saw Mark, who was on the next table to them, sitting there smiling smugly. Cutter looked down his drink, nodded thanks to Becker, and took a swig, praying that the taste would snap his thoughts away from her.

Of course, it didn't.

As the night wore on, that posh voice of Mark's bore into him more and more, possibly because the man was becoming more and more intoxicated, and hence he was growing louder. Cutter allowed his ears to prick up and he listened more intently to one of their conversations.

"I tell you something gentleman . . . as soon as were married, we're going to have an army of sons," Mark's voice slurred.

"Oh and you've told Jenny about this, I assume?" another man's voice said, sounding highly amused.

"Once she's Mrs Banks, she'll do as she's told," Mark shouted drunkenly.

"And right to!" a second man laughed.

"I'm sorry, are we talking about the same woman?" the first man laughed. "She could eat you for breakfast Mark!"

"That'll change once that wedding ring's on her finger," Mark replied. "But I'm not unreasonable! I don't mind if she wants to go out and work, as long as my tea's on the table when I get home!" he banged his fist on his own table.

All the other men around Mark's table were roaring with laughter, making Cutter feel disgusted. Mark really didn't know how lucky he was to have Jenny, did he?

"You alright Professor?" Conner asked, looking at him with mild concern.

"Aye," Cutter grimaced, wrenching himself away from Mark's conversation. "I'm fine, you?"

"Oh, I'm having a great time," he grinned, his eyes slightly glazed as he raised his beer. "Trust Jenny to have a do this fancy."

"Yes, I think I'm paying her too much," Lester interjected, sipping his brandy. "I might have to have a re-think about her wages - "

"If I could have your attention please!" Mark's voice slurred loudly.

Cutter turned, feeling irritated, and saw that the man was standing on a chair, being held up by some of his friends. He was holding up his drink, slopping it all over the floor, and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Tomorrow," he barked, "is the day I marry the most beautiful woman in the world."

There was a cheer of agreement from the room, everyone clapping and smiling.

"And to celebrate," he continued, his eyes unfocused, "I've risked the wrath of my beloved, so that I could give you boys," he pointed sloppily at everyone, "a little treat. MANDY!" he added with a shout.

The music changed from the generic soft jazz they'd been forced to listen to all night to Hot Chocolate's 'You Sexy Thing' if Cutter's ears served him right. Out of the corner door, a young woman stepped out, dressed in a school girls outfit, although if any girls would have worn that to the school Cutter went to, they would have been expelled in a heart beat. She looked barely eighteen, had bright blonde hair tied back in messy pigtails, and wore a dazzling smile. When the men spotted her, they all cheered, whooping and catcalling.

"Now that's more like it," Lester smiled, settling back in his seat and looking as though Christmas had come early.

Cutter, however, was mortified; watching a stripper was not his sort of thing at all. He remembered at his own stag party, a few of his friends had taken him to a strip club, but he had refused a dance off one of the women point-blank; it just felt seedy, ogling a barely legal girl. His view was apparently not shared by most of the room, as he looked around at the elated faces. Looking at Conner was almost comical.

The girl danced around erotically, cheered on by everyone. At one point she came up to Cutter's table. She pulled off her yellow and green striped tie slowly and, much to Cutter's embarrassment, she draped it around his shoulders with a seductive wink. He pushed her arms away from him gently, shaking his head to indicate that he wasn't interested, and the girl shrugged and moved on.

Eventually, the stripper got to Mark; it seems she had been saving him for the main event. She straddled him, with a loud applause from the crowd, and grinded against him to the music, much to the man's delight. Cutter watched, slightly sickened, as Mark ran his hands under her blouse, apparently not caring that some of Jenny's family were in the room. No one pulled him up on it, however, whether because of the drink, or because this kind of behaviour was perfectly normal in this type of social circle.

"Jenny's going to have a hard time keeping him on a leash," Lester observed shrewdly.

Cutter had seen enough; if he witnesses any more of this, he'd probably end up knocking Mark to kingdom come. He looked over at Conner, about to tell him that he was going to get some air, but by the look on the boys face, Cutter could have yelled in his ear and he was unlikely to notice. He was too busy with his eyes fixated on the stripper, as if he had never seen a woman before in his life. Suppressing a smile, Cutter made his way out of the throng of men unnoticed. As he reached the hall, he heard loud cheering from behind him, suggesting that the girl's blouse had finally been discarded.

* * *

**Sorry it's so short, but the next one is so long that it'll make up for it! x**


	6. Tales from the past

Chapter 6

Cutter stepped out into the fresh air, sighing with the relief of being away from that room full of morons. They were not the people he would generally associate with, or indeed ever have the urge to be in the company of, especially that creep Mark. Lester was right, Jenny would have a hard time keeping him faithful, if he hadn't cheated on her already. And by the way he was all over that stripper, Cutter suspected that was probably the case. He let out an involuntary growl of frustration as he walked deeper into the darkening grounds. She deserved so much better than _him!_

He allowed his gaze to wander over the beautiful garden, letting the welcome stillness wash over him. As he glanced back at the grand hotel, he thought vaguely that the last time he was somewhere this nice, it was in that golfing hotel with Claudia. That was a terrible day, although it did have it's more . . . pleasant moments. He let the memory of her kiss take hold of him, and he closed his eyes against the pang that he felt in his heart. If only he could kiss her again, just one more time . . .

His thoughts were stopped as he spotted a puff of smoke circle it's way up into the black sky. His eyes focused, and with a jolt, he saw that Jenny was leaning on a stone railing that encircled a large, dense bed of flowers, looking lost in her own thoughts. She was beautiful, even in the dark, so much so that he momentarily couldn't draw a breath. She was wearing an elegant black silk dress, and her hair was free and wavy, sweeping around her face in the light breeze. And strangely enough, she was smoking. Cutter had never seen her smoke before, and it was odd to watch as she took a particularly large drag, and sighed an exhale.

He approached her quietly, so much so in that he was right behind her without her noticing him.

"Caught you," he said suddenly, chuckling as she jumped and coughed, waving her hand in the air to fan the smoke away.

"God!" she gasped, recovering herself and thumping him in the chest. "You scared the _hell_ out of me!"

"Sorry," he smiled, leaning next to her, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as his arm brushed against hers accidently.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you to never sneak up on a woman in the dark?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated, taking the cigarette out of her fingers. "I didn't know you smoked?"

"I don't . . . well, not really," she explained, resting her elbows back on the stone. "Just when I'm stressed. I went through about five packs after my first day in the ARC."

Cutter nodded, and took a drag of the cigarette himself, feeling the warmth of her lips on the tip of it. In truth, he didn't really smoke himself; Helen had forced him give up when they started dating, but right at this moment, he felt like he needed one just as much as Jenny did. Her lips curled into a reluctant smile as she watched, and she accepted the cigarette back of him.

"So, are you enjoying yourself?" he asked politely, fighting the overwhelming urge he had to cough - he figured that it would be very unmanly.

"Well if I was, I wouldn't be out here with you, would I?" she answered sarcastically, flicking the cigarette to rid it of excess ash.

He raised an eyebrow at her, so she rolled her eyes and continued, "It was just getting a bit . . . _intense_ in there. I just needed a break."

"Well, why are you hiding out all the way out here?"

She tittered slightly. "If my mum caught me smoking, I would never hear the end of it."

"But you're a grown woman" Cutter pointed out, as he took the cigarette back off her.

Again, she laughed in a way that told Cutter she suspected that he had no clue about her life. "I took a sip of her wine at dinner one time when I was seven years old, and I've still not heard the end of it. I just can't be bothered with an hour long lecture on the dangers of smoking. Not tonight."

Cutter nodded and passed it back to her, feeling electricity surge through him as her fingers brushed up against his.

"How about you?" she added, cocking her head to one side and observing him through the darkness. "Are you having fun?"

"It's been . . ." Cutter began, his mind snapping back to the stripper. ". . . Interesting . . ."

He briefly considered telling her what Mark was up to back in the hotel, but apart from not wanting to upset her, he didn't quite know how to say it without sounding like a sniveling little boy who was telling tales on another boy in his class to the teacher. They stood in silence for a while, passing the cigarette back and forth, Cutter enjoying her company, and he had the sneaky suspicion that the feeling was mutual.

"Are you nervous?" Cutter asked her, breaking the silence first. "About tomorrow?"

"No," she replied quickly, perhaps a little to quickly for it to be believable. Perhaps she was aware that her answer was to forthcoming, and she half-glanced around at him. "Maybe a little," she conceded quietly.

Again, they lapsed into silence; Cutter unsure of what to say. It felt fake to tell her that everything would be okay, when a small part of him secretly hoped that something, _anything_, would go wrong and prevent her from marrying him. He knew that was selfish, and perhaps unforgivable, but it wasn't like he didn't have sound reasoning. He knew that Mark could never treat her the way she deserved, except perhaps financially. But money wasn't everything, was it?

"What's that?" Jenny said out of the blue, pointing at something around his shoulders.

He looked down, distracted, and with a jolt, he saw that she was indicating the school girl tie that the stripper had placed around him. He had completely forgotten about it.

"It's . . . erm . . it's just . . ." he stammered, trying and failing to come up with an excuse.

She reached out and pulled it off him, holding it up to her eyes. Cutter watched, heart hammering as her eyes narrowed; she had clearly worked it out.

She laughed humorlessly, throwing the tie on the floor. "For goodness sake - "

"Oh come on," Cutter said tentatively. "Loads of men get strippers for their stag parties - "

"But in the same hotel as me, Cutter! _The same hotel!_" she shrieked, her cheeks flushed with anger that was even visible in the dark.

"It's not so bad - " Cutter began, not doing it to defend Mark, but so that she wouldn't get upset.

"So I'm just expected to accept the fact that he's in there right now drooling over some naked woman?" she said in incredulity.

"Well what else can you do?"

Jenny huffed, leaning back against the railing and throwing the cigarette into the night. She stood in silence for a few moments, and after a while, Cutter felt safe enough to approach her. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, but he felt her tense under his touch so he withdrew it quickly.

"Look," he sighed, running his hand over his hair. "Mark's a tosser - "

"That's my husband you're talking about," she said sternly, turning around to face him with her arms crossed.

"Not yet," Cutter mumbled unwisely.

She raised her eyebrow and leaned her back against the railing. Then, realization suddenly hit Cutter square in the face - what was he doing all this for? She was taken!

"You know what, I'm just going to leave you in peace," he murmured, turning to leave.

He walked a few paces, before her voice cut unexpectedly into the night.

"Nick, don't leave me," she said suddenly, the pleading in her voice making his chest convulse.

He turned back, still in shock over her words - Claudia's words, when she was blinded and scared. Jenny stared back at him, looking surprised by her own words. All he wanted to do was close the distance between them and pull her into his arms, but he couldn't. That was not what she was asking for, it wasn't what she wanted. All she needed from him was reassurance and comfort; someone to talk to for one night. So he walked back and leaned next to her, not rushing her to talk.

Eventually, she sniffed as though she was gathering herself together.

"So why were you prowling around out here then?" she asked, obviously trying to inject a bit of humour into the conversation. "I mean, you could have been in there with the rest of them ogling some stripper."

"It all got a bit weird," Cutter admitted. "She was young enough to be my daughter - " he laughed and glanced at her, but she shot him a stern look, so he gulped and looked at the floor timidly.

"Is she pretty?" Jenny demanded, obviously not wanting to drop the subject.

"Er . . ." he muttered. This honest answer would have been yes, but he didn't think it would be very smart of him to say so. However -

"I'll take that as a yes then," she said shrewdly. "What does she look like?"

"Erm - blonde," he replied, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. "And erm . . . slim I suppose . . ."

"Just his type then," she grimaced, her voice sounding bitter.

"She's not half as beautiful as you," Cutter informed her without thinking first.

Her head snapped around to him at his words, looking at him with a disbelieving expression. Cutter felt embarrassment creep up his neck, making him uncomfortably hot; but he couldn't help noticing that she looked rather pleased. To gloss over his blunder, he cleared his throat.

"He's got big plans for you, I hear," he mumbled, kicking the ground beneath his feet as casually as possible.

"Yeah, tell me about it," she sighed, the smile she had worn vanishing. Her gaze flickered up to meet his, her brown eyes betraying her feeling of helplessness. "I just wish that - "

"Jen? Is that you?" the man's voice floated over to them from the hotel door.

They both glanced over as a figure made it's way towards them, undistinguishable in the darkness. For a second, Cutter thought it might be Mark, but it didn't sound like him.

"Yes," Jenny sighed dramatically back at the man, although a smile lit up her face. "What do you want?"

The man came into focus as he approached them; Cutter recognized him from the party, but didn't know who he was. He looked in his mid-twenties, was very handsome and had dark, gelled up hair. He stopped in front of them, beaming at Jenny.

"You look like hell, Sis," he grinned, and Cutter finally realised who he was - he was Jenny's brother. She had heard her mention him before in a casual conversation, although he didn't know much about him.

"You look dreadful yourself," she smiled back, reaching over and pulling him into a hug.

As they broke apart, Jenny looked around at Cutter.

"Have you two met?" she asked.

"Er, no I don't think so," Cutter answered.

"Well, Nick, this is my brother Chris," she smiled. "And Chris, this is Nick, my work colleague."

Chris held out his hand with a genuine warm smile, and Nick took it with a nod.

"Nice to meet you," Chris said. "Jen, you haven't got a fag to lend me have you?" he added, looking at her with pleading eyes.

"No," Jenny said sternly, crossing her arms again.

"Oh, come on, don't be tight!" Chris exclaimed. "I know you, I know you've got some on you, you always smoke when you're stressed!"

"No, because if mum catches you, I'll be the one who gets it in the ear," Jenny retorted.

"Oh don't be such a goody two shoes!"

Sighing, Jenny reached in her bag and pulled out a pack, offering him one and taking one out for herself.

"Nick?" she said, also offering Cutter the pack. He took one, more for appearance sake that anything. God, it was like being back in the school playground.

"If mum finds out, you didn't get it from me," she added to Chris coldly as she handed him a lighter.

"Scouts honor!" he smiled, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag.

"So, what's the age difference between you two then?" Cutter asked, feeling very curious about Jenny's life; he knew very little about her outside the ARC. Ever since he had seen her fiancé the first night in this alternative time line, any curiosity he had about her was transformed into an active suppression of his feelings for her. But things had changed now, and for the life of him he couldn't work out what.

"She's three years older than me," Chris answered.

"Yes, he's the baby of the family," Jenny interjected in a mock-baby voice, to which Chris narrowed his eyes playfully.

"Yeah, and you're the black sheep of the family," he said in a childish voice.

"You watch your lip!" Jenny chided, although she didn't look too cross.

"Aww, my big sister . . . getting married . . . it seems like only yesterday you were torturing me."

"Excuse me," Jenny laughed. "I think you'll find it was the other way around!"

"Oh yeah?" he said. "So who pushed whom through a window?"

"You pushed him through a window?" Cutter asked in disbelief.

"It was an accident!" Jenny exclaimed hotly.

"An accident?" Chris repeated in incredulity. He turned to Cutter and began to explain. "I was about eight or something, and she and some neighbor of ours . . . what was his name Jen? Ben something?" Jenny shrugged, so he continued. "Well anyway, they were doing that thing to me, 'a leg and a wing' or something. At the end, they both let go of me, and I went straight through the lounge window!"

Cutter gapped at Jenny who was giggling at the memory.

"And then, right," Chris continued with a smile. "I'm lying in the garden, covered in glass with head-to-toe cuts, and I hear this one," he pointed to Jenny, "say 'oops'! That's it! 'Oops'!"

"Are you ever going to forget that?" Jenny exclaimed.

"No, I've got an elephants memory when it comes to nearly dying!"

"Oh, you're being dramatic!" Jenny insisted. "You had a few scratches. And it was an accident. What about the time you scared the hell out of me by hiding under my bed? That wasn't an accident!"

Chris let out a roar of laughter, clutching his stomach.

"Well," Jenny explained to Cutter, who was thoroughly enjoying these stories of her childhood. "I'd been sent to bed early for something, I forget what now, probably something ridiculous - "

"And I'd hurried ahead of her and hid under her bed," Chris interjected. "And I must of had the patience of a saint, because I waited about an hour for her to drift off to sleep - "

"And then, I just felt this hand grab my ankle. My God, I nearly had an actual heart attack!"

"To be fair, Dad did drag me out by my legs!" Chris laughed. "God, I got in so much trouble."

"Well you deserved it!" Jenny pointed out.

"Oh yeah?" Chris said. "Well what about the time when you came in drunk and I _stopped_ you from getting in trouble?"

"Jenny Lewis," Cutter said in mock-shock, shaking his head.

"It's not like it sounds - "

"Er, it's exactly how it sounds!" Chris laughed. "I was about thirteen, so you would have been, what? Sixteen?" Jenny nodded, and he continued, speaking to Cutter, "and it must have been the summer holidays or something, because we were back from school. Well, anyway, I was asleep, and I got this phone call from her saying she'd lost her keys, and she asked if I could go and let her in. So I crept down stairs, opened the front door, and there she was - draped across the bush in the garden."

"I wasn't draped!" Jenny interjected.

"You could barely stand up!" Chris accused, before taking another pull of his cigarette. "So I had to half carry her up the stairs, trying not to wake mum and dad up, which was hard when she was singing the Spice Girls at the top of her lungs. And her room was on the top floor, and I couldn't be bothered getting her up there, so I put her in my room. And at the time, right, I had these bunk beds, so I put her on the top bunk - "

"Why didn't you put me on the bottom bunk?" Jenny interrupted curiously.

"Because I had the fort at the bottom, remember?"

"Oh right, I forgot about the fort. You geek," she teased.

"Anyway," Chris continued. "I put her on the top bunk and got back in my bed, and was about to fall asleep, and I must have had my arm hanging out or something. But all of a sudden, she puts her head over the side and pukes up all over my hand!"

Cutter burst out laughing, as did Chris. Even Jenny grinned sheepishly.

"In my defense, I was only a kid," she pointed out, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Ah mate, I couldn't scrub my hand enough!" Chris said to Cutter, wheezing from the laughing.

"Well if I remember correctly, the next day you woke me up by pouring water over my face!" Jenny accused.

"Yes I remember . . . you were very rude about it," he teased.

"Jennifer!" a posh woman's voice rang out across the grounds.

Jenny cursed, and threw her cigarette into the trees, before grabbing Chris's out of his hands and chucking it also.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I was enjoying that!"

"Shut up!" Jenny hissed, frantically fishing for something in her bag. She pulled out a bottle of expensive perfume and doused herself in it, and before he could object, she sprayed Chris also.

"Jenny!" he spluttered, coughing and wheezing. "Now I smell like a woman!"

"What? She's got the nose of a bloodhound!" Jenny whispered urgently. She glanced at Cutter, "I'd put yours out too, she's not above yelling at strangers."

Cutter obeyed immediately, dropping his cigarette by his feet and standing on it, just as a woman rounded the trees behind them. It was obviously Jenny's mother; as she came closer, Cutter noticed that the resemblance between them was uncanny. They had the same colour hair, and same cheekbones . . . they even had the same shaped eyes.

"There you are!" she said to Jenny in a disapproving voice. "I wondered where you had disappeared off to."

"Sorry, I just needed some air," Jenny replied, obviously lying through her teeth. "Have you met Professor Nick Cutter?" she added obviously trying to change the subject, gesturing to Cutter next to her.

"No, I don't believe I have," her mother replied coldly, although she didn't pause for an introduction, and instead turned to Chris, and speaking to him in a much warmer voice. "How are you darling? Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes mum," he smiled, speaking in a very angelic voice.

"Hmm, I bet you are," Jenny interjected cryptically, glaring at her brother; she was obviously referring to the stripper.

"What do you mean?" her mother asked.

"They've only gone and got a - "

"Wow, look at the time," Chris interrupted loudly, checking his wrist that didn't even have a watch on it. "We'd better all get back to the party."

"Yes, he's right Jennifer," her mother agreed. "It's incredibly bad manners for the hostess to disappear from the party."

She grabbed her daughters arm, and with an apologetic look at Cutter, Jenny allowed herself to be guided away.

"Phew, close one," Chris grinned, clapping Cutter on the back.

He was barely listening, however, as he was too busy watching Jenny being all but frog-marched back to her hen-do. If anything, these last few minutes had just made him feel more strongly about her; he was well and truly . . . what was that phrase kids used now-a-days? . . . 'whipped'. She was just wonderful, especially when she let her guard down as she had done just now. _Why_ had he wasted so much time? Maybe if he would have told her a year ago how he felt about her, she might not be getting married. Or maybe she would have slapped him and old him to get lost.

"Hello?" Chris's voice said as though from a great distance away.

With difficulty, Cutter yanked his thoughts away from Jenny and focused on him, noticing that he was staring back with a puzzled expression. Chris glanced over at Jenny, who was now a great distance away, and looked back at Cutter.

"Are you - are you in to my sister?" he asked, looking confused.

"No," Cutter replied quickly; a little to quickly to be plausible.

"Yes you are," Chris insisted, his expression growing serious. "The way you're looking at her - "

"Well, she's my friend - "

"Listen mate," Chris interrupted, obviously not buying his excuses. "I'm not the biggest fan of Mark myself; I think Jenny could do a lot better. But, well, she's happy with him. And she's marrying him tomorrow. So just back off, okay? I don't want you to hurt her."

"I would never do that," Cutter insisted truthfully.

"So we're agreed then?" Chris persisted. "You'll leave her alone?"

Cutter sighed heavily, and looked down at the ground.

"Yes," he breathed, hating saying it, but knowing that Chris was right. Jenny was just one of those women; if she wanted something, she'd get it, and she certainly mustn't want him if she was getting married tomorrow.

"Okay," Chris said, smiling awkwardly. "Shall we go back then?"

"You go," Cutter said quietly. "I'm going to stay out here a bit longer . . ."

Chris nodded, and walked away, hands in his pocket, leaving Cutter to beat himself up a bit more. Maybe he should leave? Get a taxi tonight and go back home before he did something he'd regret? Listening to her telling those stories, he felt her cool professionalism melt away, and he found it testing every fibre of his being not to act on the impulse that had been threatened to engulf him for months. But he couldn't . . . he _really_ should go. But how would that look?

As he walked back to his room, unable to face going back to the party, he decided against it. Instead, he vowed to keep his composure, and watch her get married. Then, and only then would he be able to move on.

* * *

**Phew long chapter! No flames please about Jenny smoking, as remember in episode 2, series 2 when Cutter asked if anyone had a light to set off the water to cool the temperature down, and Jenny had a lighter on her? ITV hands me the toys and I make stories out of them :D**


	7. The realisation

Chapter 7

_Cutter pushed Jenny against the bark of some gnarled tree, both of them to flustered to go anywhere more comfortable. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help herself; she shivered with anticipation as he slid his hand up her inner thigh, his mouth locked with hers, kissing her hungrily . . . desperately. Her hands wandered down to his belt buckle, and she undid it with trembling hands, unable to wait any longer. She wasn't the sort of woman to have a quick fumble in the rain, but she couldn't bring herself to care. His rough hands wandered further up her leg, teasing and hesitant, and he whispered hot words in her ear, his accent thicker than she'd ever heard it. This had an overwhelming effect on her, and caused her tug at his pants more insistently, never wanting anyone so badly in her life. His entire body was pressed against hers, so that she could feel every inch of him. She heard herself moan as his lips caressed the skin of her neck, his hands fumbling at the edge of her underwear._

Jenny awoke with a gasp, breathing hard as her eyes scanned the unfamiliar dark room she was in. It took her a few moments to work out where she was - in the hotel room, and in bed quite alone. She calmed slightly, propping her upper body up on her elbows. She looked down at herself, observing that her chest was still heaving and she was drenched in sweat. She got up and made her way to the bathroom, cupping water in her hands and splashing it over her face, looking up at herself in the mirror.

_Where the hell had that come from?_ she thought, her pulse still racing.

It had been an extremely vivid dream; so vivid, in fact, that she could still feel Cutter's touch on her, could still smell his aroma . . .

She shook her head and ran her damp fingers through her hair.

_It was nothing, _she told herself insistently. _It doesn't mean anything_ . . .

But she was lying to herself, she knew that as soon as she though it. And the reason for this was that when she had realised it was only a dream, she felt a pang of disappointment surge through her.

Huffing, she climbed back into bed and slammed her head on the pillow a little harder than was necessary. She glanced over at the digital alarm clock next to her, and saw with a jolt that it was 4am.

She was getting married today.

To someone else.


	8. The morning blur

Chapter 8

Jenny barely slept at all for the rest of the night, her thoughts too fixated on that dream. It's not like it was the first time she had see Cutter in . . . _that way _. . . after all, she wasn't blind; she was aware that he was attractive. But to dream about him like that, on the eve of her wedding . . . what did it mean? That she wanted to _sleep_ with him? Or did it go deeper than that? There had always been a strange vibe between the two of them, ever since they had met. There had been a lot of charged arguments, sidelong glances and, more annoyingly, a strong feeling that she knew him from somewhere else, but she couldn't seem to place him. For the first few months of her joining the ARC, Jenny would go as far as to say that Cutter hated her. But lately . . . things seemed to have shifted. He seemed to have warmed towards her, and last night, when they had talked . . . he seemed different. _Happy_ in her company. And unless she was very much mistaken, (which she doubted, as she was rather an expert at the subject) he had flirted with her. Is that why she'd dreamt about him? Either way, the fact that she had dreamt about him the night before her wedding, let alone in a vividly erotic way, meant that something was wrong.

A long while later, Jenny found herself alone in one of the smaller function rooms of the hotel that had been turned into a make-up room for the bridal party. The morning had passed her by in a blur, as though it was all happening to someone else and she was just watching. The excitement in the room from everyone else was suffocating; all the bridesmaids chattering away happily as the champagne was handed out. She was relieved, to say the least, when everyone was called away to another room to get their dresses on.

Sighing, she moved to stand in front of an antique six-foot-high mirror, not recognizing the woman looking back at her. She turned to the side and smoothed her hands over her hips; she must have tried on this wedding dress at least ten times since she had chosen it, but now it just looked strange on her. It was white, of course, despite that 'ship' having sailed some time in high school; the top half was strapless, with soft beading that highlighted her chest in a way that she had previously liked, but now it seemed rather tacky; the bottom half splayed out and fell to the floor, which looked overly-puffy as she scrutinized herself further. Her hair was the only thing she liked about her current appearance. It was pulled back into a loose bun with tendrils of hair falling down in curls, and a fantastic tiara glistened on her head, her having decided against a veil. The hairdresser had really earned her paycheck.

Jenny didn't turn when she heard the door open behind her as she could see her mothers face reflected in the mirror. She stopped right behind her, wearing a very rare smile.

"You look beautiful," she said, reaching up and adjusting something in Jenny's hair. "I'm glad you went with the tiara . . . I think the veil would have been a bit too much."

Jenny looked up and met her gaze in the mirror, noticing that her mum looked happier than she had ever seen her before. She felt her place her hands on her shoulders.

"Your father and I are so proud of you," she continued, still beaming.

Jenny let out a hollow laugh before she could stop herself. "It's funny that I have to marry a rich successful man for you to be proud of me," she said, her voice shaking with what she assumed was nerves.

Her mother's smile faltered slightly and she dropped her hands.

"It's nearly time," she said curtly, turning to leave. "Make sure your ready."

Jenny watched through the mirror as she walked towards the door, her heart hammering at the thought of what was next, and before she could stop the words spilling out of her mouth, she hear herself speak.

"Mum?" she said in a small, scared mouse voice.

Her mother turned, and her reflection looked at her questioningly.

"I - I don't think I can do this," Jenny continued, taking a deep breath to steady her voice. "I think I'm making a huge mistake."

Her mother stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she marched back, her heels clicking loudly on the floor, and she wheeled Jenny around to face her.

"Of course you can do this," she breathed sternly, shaking her by the shoulders.

"But I - "

"No, you listen to me," she interrupted. "This marriage is the best thing that could happen to you. Mark will take care of you; you won't want for anything with him."

Jenny reached up and wiped the unexpected tears away from under her eyes with a trembling hand.

"This is just cold feet," her mother reasoned. "Once it's over with, you'll be fine."

"No, I won't," Jenny cried, putting her hand on her stomach and doubling over slightly, struggling to draw a breath - her dress was suddenly way too tight on her . . . too stifling . . . she felt like she was about to have a panic attack. "I - I don't love him - " she breathed, finally finding her voice again.

"Love?" her mother repeated coldly, her grip tightening on Jenny's shoulders as she forced her to straighten up. "_Love? _If that's what you think makes a marriage work then you're more naive than I thought. It's about security. It's about building a life together, which you and Mark have done. And you have a _good life _Jennifer."

"But what if it's not the life I want?" Jenny asked quietly.

Her mother let go of her and walked away, letting out a noise of aspiration.

"Why are you doing this?" her she demanded, flinging her arms in the air and turning around to face her. "For that man?"

Surprised, Jenny looked up into her cold eyes. She knew that she was talking about Cutter, although how she had know was beyond her. Maybe her mother was more astute than she had given her credit for. But Jenny didn't know what to reply with. Was that why she was doing it?

"Please don't tell me you're in love with him?" her mum continued, her voice laced with cool amusement.

She was obviously expecting Jenny to deny it, but again, she couldn't bring herself to answer. In a second, her mums face turned stony.

"What sort of life do you think some one like him can give you?" she said in a dangerous whisper. "Hmm? He's too old for you, and he's a _Professor _for goodness sake! What on earth are you thinking?"

"He's not just a Professor!" Jenny argued, aware that she had just confirmed her feelings, not only to her mother, but to herself. "He's . . ." she continued, although she stopped short; it's not like she could explain what he does for a living now.

"Now you listen to me," her mother said loudly. "You're going to paint a smile your face, and go and marry Mark with your head held high. He comes from a good family; he's perfect for you. What you're feeling for this . . . this other man . . . it's not real! It's just lust, it's not love. You love Mark, you've been together forever. He's the one who'll make you happy."

Jenny sighed, and looked at the floor, the will to fight leaving her.

"Okay?" her mum pushed, her voice sounding more gentle.

"Okay," Jenny replied numbly, closing her eyes as tears fell down her cheeks.

Her mum reached up and brushed the wetness away with her heavily manicured thumb.

"Stop crying now, you'll ruin your make up," she said softly, cupping Jenny's face. "I'm only doing this because I want the best for you. And marrying Mark _is_ what's best for you."

Jenny nodded, and her mum withdrew her hands from her face as there was a knock on the door.

"Come in,' she shouted, her eyes still studying Jenny's face.

The door knob turned and Jenny's father walked in, smiling from ear to ear. Jenny turned away from him so he couldn't see that she was crying.

"Are we all set?" he beamed.

"Yes, everything's fine," her mother replied immediately. "Pull yourself together," she added in a barely audible whisper into Jenny's ear before she walked away.

* * *

**Hope people are still enjoying this! I honestly have no idea were this story is going, I'm literally writing each chapter as it comes to me. So hopefully it'll turn out to be more that a load of garble :S We'll see. It might be a couple of days until I can find the time to write chapter 9, but if I get a spare few hours I'll try and get another chapter up :) let me know what you think as it would seriously help me to figure out which direction I want this story to go x**


	9. I do

**Found a spare hour so I came up with this! Sorry if it's not that good, but i was in kindo of a hurry :( by the way, I just want to thank all the people who have reviewed, it really makes my day to hear that some people are enjoying my story :D Much love x**

* * *

Chapter 9

The wedding, unbeknownst to Cutter at the time, was to take place outside in the hotel grounds. He had only become aware of this when the team had met up in the Lobby, and Abby and Sarah had lead them out of the front doors and into the sun drenched garden. There were spindly white chairs sitting in rows, with a big gap down the middle to make the aisle. The chairs faced a magnificent white arch way that had been erected down at the bottom, with lilac flowers and green leaves entwined around it. That was obviously where they would become 'man and wife', Cutter thought bitterly.

He filed down one row of seats near the back, as it was family and close friends that were probably to be seated at the front. Conner sat next to him, and the rest filled the remaining seats in the row.

"I've never been to a wedding before," Conner informed them, bobbing with excitement.

"Never?" Abby's voice asked him; she was sitting on the other side of Conner.

"Nope," he shook his head.

"Oh, I love weddings," Sarah sighed from the seat next to Abby. "Especially this one; they've spared no expense, have they?"

"I don't think her mum would have let her from what we heard last night," Abby replied to Sarah in a hushed voice, although Cutter caught it. "She seemed very high maintenance, didn't she?"

"Well Jenny's not exactly easy going," Conner pointed out, his comment earning him a slap on his arm from Abby. "Ouch! I only meant that it sounds like Jenny and her mum are a lot alike."

"Believe me, they're not," Sarah said abruptly. "Look, that's her there."

She pointed over to the front of the aisle to the woman Cutter had seen the previous night, and the warm light of day had apparently done nothing to make her expression less cold. She was dressed very proper, and surveyed the growing crowd with a cool impassiveness. As Cutter stared at her, he could have sworn that her gaze met his, and for a moment, she narrowed her eyes, before looking away.

"She looks like Jenny though, doesn't she?" Conner said.

"They may look alike, but they're poles apart," Abby whispered, giving the woman a cold look.

"I've heard Jenny talk about her mum before in passing, but I'd always though she was over-exaggerating," Conner said, playing with the cuffs of his jacket impatiently.

"Believe me, that woman needs no embellishment," Sarah chimed in, opening her programme and burying her nose in it.

* * *

Helen reclined casually back onto the bark of a tree, watching everyone from a distance as they took their seats. If she squinted her eyes, she could make out the vague figure of Nick, next to who she assumed was Conner and Abby. Chuckling to herself, she noticed how Nick had chosen seats near the back, all the worst to see. That was Nick all over; bury his head in the sand, and pretend it's not happening. He was the same when their own marriage was going down the plug hole. It was obvious to Helen that he had fallen for Claudia Brown; she bitterly recalled his refusal to join her in her quest to the future for that woman. And now that she was . . . what was her name now? Ah, Jenny, that was it. Well, it was clear that the fact she was a completely different person now had done nothing to quash Nick's feelings for her. And now she was getting married. How completely and utterly brilliant. It seems that Nick had been served his revenge without Helen having to lift a finger. Still . . . something troubled her. In truth, it had been rather amusing to watch her husband pine over someone he couldn't have. But knowing Nick, as soon as Jenny was married, he'd back off. He was so overbearingly noble; there was no way that he would ever chase after a married woman, even if she was interested. It was something they had often fought about throughout their own marriage; frankly, it bugged the hell out of her that Nick was so conservative. Is it any wonder she set off in search of more adventurous pastures? Anyway . . . this all seemed a bit too easy. Helen had always had the view that people were master's of their own fate, and so it bothered her that her revenge was being carried out without a helping hand. And it also bothered her that she was about to lose her main form of entertainment. So what could she possibly do to rectify the situation?

She paused, tapping her fingers on the bark impatiently. If she disrupted the wedding, then she'd be doing Nick a favour surely? He'd be free to pursue this _Jenny_ to his hearts content. But then there was the possibility that she'd still turn him down. Now that could be fun . . . handing him a life line, only to have it snatched away ever so cruelly. He'd be broken . . . and then and only then would he know what he had put her through. It had never been said that Helen Cutter handled rejection well.

Smirking, she stood up and pulled the anomaly opening device out of her torn pants. She knew an old friend who'd be more than happy to come and offer his congratulations to the happy couple . . . Helen herself had had a few lucky escapes from him. She couldn't wait to see what Nick made of him.

* * *

Most people seemed to be in their seat now, and a hush had descended over everyone as the anticipation grew. Mark had taken his station at the side of the arch way, grinning at the crowd, and offering the odd wave every now and then. Just looking at him made Cutter's blood boil, forcing him to abandon his previous conviction of keeping his emotions in check. For the millionth time he felt himself wondering what on earth Jenny saw in him. Sure, he was good-looking in a conventional sort of way, and yes, he was loaded, but other than that, there seemed to be nothing beneath the surface. And he knew he didn't know her as much as he would like, but Jenny didn't seem like the type of woman to marry someone who was about as deep as a puddle. But that was probably wistful thinking; just because Cutter had enough baggage to fill a warehouse didn't mean everyone did.

Delicate music echoed around the grounds, and everyone stood up and turned to the door of the hotel. Jenny stood, arm in arm with her beaming dad, carefully stepping down the stairs, and smiling graciously. Behind her, five bridesmaids in elegant lilac dresses followed, a bunch of purple flowers in their hands.

"Wow," Conner whispered from beside him. "She looks beautiful."

Beautiful, according to Cutter, was an understatement. There were no words in the English dictionary to do justice to her description; the way she glowed with illuminance as she walked down the aisle, the way her smile shone brighter than the sun, the way the pure white dress complimented her creamy skin. She was radiant. Completely and utterly perfect. To Cutter, it felt like a kick in the stomach; he suddenly realised that he couldn't be there, he couldn't watch this. But he stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from her. As they reached the archway, Jenny's father planted a kiss on her cheek and disengaged her arm from his, taking a seat. Everyone else followed suit, and Jenny turned to face Mark, and smiled again, although for some reason, the warmth of her smile didn't seem to spread to her eyes. Again, Cutter supposed that it was just wistful thinking on his part.

"Dearly beloved," the Minister began, grinning at the crowd. "We are all gathered here to witness the union of Mark James Banks to Jennifer Victoria Lewis - "

"Are you crying Conner?" Abby whispered, sounding highly amused.

"No, of course not," Conner replied, his voice sounding choked. He glanced around at Cutter, his eyes glistening. "Well okay, maybe I am, but it's just so lovely . . ."

"Mark and Jennifer, the covenant you are about to make to each other is a beautiful and sacred expression of your love for one another. As you pledge your vows, and as you commit your lives to each other, we ask you do so with a deep sense of joy; with the deep conviction that you are committing yourselves to a relationship of trust, support and caring love . . ."

Cutter looked away for a moment, trying to control his hammering heart. _She's taken . . . it's too late now . . . just let her go . . ._

"Jennifer, do you understand and accept this responsibility, and do you promise to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy and happy marriage?"

Cutter looked up again, willing himself to watch, holding his breath that she would say no.

"Yes, I do," Jenny said, her voice cutting into him like a knife.

Heart sinking, Cutter looked around at Conner, who was now bawling into a tissue Abby had given him.

"Is he alright?" Cutter asked Abby, happy that the sound of Mark's pledge was drowned out slightly.

"He's just a little sensitive," Abby whispered back, patting Conner's arm.

"You people are made of stone!" Conner choked, blowing his nose.

"Now it's time for you to make your vows to each other," the Minister continued. "Mark?"

Mark reached around to his best man and took the ring off him, turning back to Jenny with a smile. He reached forward and took her hand, looking deep into her eyes as he spoke.

"I, Mark James Banks, take you, Jennifer Victoria Lewis, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death parts us."

He slid the ring onto her finger.

"Jennifer?" the Minister nodded at Jenny.

She was handed a ring from one of the bridesmaids behind her. Cutter noticed that she was shaking as she turned back to Mark. She looked up at him and opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. She closed it again, squeezing her eyes together and taking a deep breath.

"Jen?" Mark probed, looking down at her with a raised eyebrows.

She opened her eyes again and looked as if she was going to say something, but this time, something else cut her off. From Conner's bag on the floor, a pronounced beeping echoed out, causing everyone in the vicinity to turn and look at them; even Jenny and Mark looked around. Jenny's horrified gaze met with Cutter's. They both knew what it was.

It was the sound of the hand-held anomaly detector.


	10. Bad timing

Chapter 10

Jenny felt her stomach disappear, and saw the same terror mirrored on Cutter's face as he stared back at her, eyes wide in shock. Not _here_ . . . not _now_ surely! With all her friends and family here! She froze, not knowing what to do or how to react. She watched as Conner and Abby made their way out of their row and took off into the distance, obviously in the direction of the anomaly. Again, she looked at Cutter who had remained in his seat, willing him to read her thoughts. _Where is it? Is it in the grounds?_

"Jen?" Mark's voice repeated from what seemed like a great distance away.

With extreme difficulty, she wrenched her gaze away from Cutter and focused on him. He was looking down at her with mingled puzzlement and irritation. Obviously, being asked to give your vows in a marriage ceremony was not something you paused about, even if there was a mild inconvenience of a 'mobile phone' going off, as he probably though it was.

"Erm . . ." she stammered, looking down at the ring in her hands, unable to remember her vows. "Erm . . . I, Jennifer Victoria Lewis, take you, Mark James Banks, to be my lawfully wedded husband - " she managed, before an ear-splitting scream cut into the stillness from a great distance away.

Abby.

Again, she shot a glance at Cutter, and saw him, Becker and Sarah getting up quickly, making to follow Abby and Conner.

"Jen?" Mark said more persistently.

She looked back up at him, tears pricking the corner of he eyes. She couldn't do this . . . especially when one of her friends was in trouble.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head.

She let the ring fall from her fingers as she lifted her dress off the ground and ran back down the aisle, catching her mother's face contorting in anger as she passed. She could hear people calling her name, but she kept running and didn't look back. She caught up to Becker and Sarah; Cutter was already some way off in the distance.

"Becker, make sure no one follows us!" she gasped, and without a word, he doubled back to the confused wedding party. "Sarah, run up and get the gun case; we're going to need it."

Sarah nodded frantically and took off towards the hotel entrance. Jenny kept on running; heart thudding wildly, more at the thought of what she'd just done rather than what awaited her when she found the anomaly. Ahead of her, she could hear more screams and shouts, and she picked up her speed to a sprint as she rounded a corner. The first sight that met her eyes was the anomaly, flickering innocently in the sunlight. The second thing she took in was far more terrifying. It looked like a gigantic greenish-grey lizard; at least nine feet long. It walked on all fours with it's legs splayed out oddly at it's side. On it's back, it had a massive crinkled sail that was flushed a reddish colour. For a second, Jenny stood, fear gluing her to the spot. She only pulled herself together when she saw Cutter flying through the air, landing hard on his back on the concrete car park ground.

She hurried over, and fell to her knees next to him. He was bleeding from his head, but thankfully, he was conscious.

"Cutter?" she breathed, her hand on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Aye, I'm fine, it's just a - " he began, but his eyes widened as he looked over her head.

Before Jenny had even registered what was happening, his hands were on her shoulders as he pulled her roughly to the side. He was on top of her, his arm around her head as a tremendous thud shook the ground, causing Jenny to scream involuntarily. For one wild moment, she thought the creature had collapsed next to them, but when Cutter pulled his arm away, she saw that it was a car steaming upside down in the place they had been just seconds before. Before the shock had even had time to dissipate, she felt the pressure on top of her lessen, telling her that Cutter had got off her, and in a flash, he was pulling her to her feet.

"Go! GO!" he shouted, pushing her around the destroyed vehicle and pulling her into a crouch behind it.

"What is that?" she demanded, her voice unnaturally high.

"Dimetrodon," Cutter breathed. "Sail-back mammalian-like lizard . . . early Permian era. Carnivorous," he added unnecessarily; a glimpse of those pointed teeth were enough to tell her that it ate more than wilted plant leaves.

There was a shout from the other side of the car, telling them that Conner was in trouble.

"I've sent Sarah for the guns," Jenny said numbly. "What do we do until then?"

Cutter paused, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Listen," he said eventually. "I'll distract it, and you run around the other way, and get the guns."

He made to stand up, but Jenny grabbed him back instantly.

"Cutter, don't!" she pleaded, shaking her head furiously.

He hesitated for a second, touching her arm briefly.

"I'll be fine," he nodded reassuringly, before darting up and taking a few steps forward.

"No, Cutter don't!" Jenny begged, but this time he ignored her, instead putting his fingers to his mouth and whistling loudly.

"HEY! OVER HERE!" he shouted, waving his arms frantically in the air to attract the creature.

The lizard was out of Jenny's view, but by the look on Cutter's face, he had caught it's attention. He glanced back at Jenny, who had remained crouched in the same position, too scared to move.

"Go!" he added to her, before taking off in the opposite direction, the creature hot on his heels. It ran very oddly, almost eerily, flailing it's body side to side to gain speed.

Still trembling, Jenny rounded the car and ran towards Abby and Conner, who were both holding a wheely bin in front of them. From a distance, she spotted Sarah sprinting with a case in her arms.

"What's he doing?" Abby demanded in disbelief, staring at Cutter with wide eyes.

"Creating a diversion," Jenny gasped, clutching a stitch on her side.

They all watched, their breaths held in unison as Cutter leaped to grab a branch of a tree, narrowly avoiding the creatures snapping jaws. He pulled himself up onto the branch fully, swinging his leg and heaving himself up higher into the tree. The creature refused to give up, however, lifting himself up onto it's hind legs the better to reach Cutter.

As soon as Sarah joined them, Jenny grabbed the case, opening it and frantically loading a gun with live rounds. Abby followed suit, but she favoured the tranquilizer gun. Jenny, however, didn't give a second though for the creatures safe return to it's era ; all she cared about was that it was about to tear Cutter to pieces. Without another word, Jenny and Abby took off, both running flat out to get to the tree. The branch Cutter was on wobbled alarmingly as the creature persisted to climb further up the bark.

Jenny and Abby stopped when it came into range, Jenny pausing to take precise aim and shooting it in it's hind leg; blood splattered out of it's tough hide. The creature roared in pain, thrashing violently so that the tree bent, Cutter only just keeping his footing. The thing turned it's attention to Jenny and Abby; both of them continued firing whilst backing away rapidly.

"Jenny!" a shocked voice shouted from behind them, turning Jenny's blood cold.

Chris.

She turned, not wanting to believe her ears, and with a sickening lurch, she saw him standing in front of the anomaly.

"What are you doing?" he yelled in a high pitched voice. "Where did you get a gun and what the hell is that thing?" he added, pointing behind her.

"Chris, move!" Jenny shouted back, fear pulsating through her. "Get out of here!"

Suddenly, Jenny felt herself being knocked to the floor as the creature lunged past them; whether because it was injured, or because he had spotted Chris as an easier target. Either way, it was bolting towards the anomaly . . . towards Chris.

Jenny tried to shout a warning, but her throat seemed to have constricted with fear. She watched, powerless, as the creature knocked her brother into the anomaly, and followed, disappearing into the flickering light.

"NO!" Jenny screamed, scrambling up to her feet, terror such as she had never felt before flooding her veins.

* * *

Cutter watched in shock as Jenny's brother vanished through the anomaly, along with the Dimetrodon. Jenny's screams pierced the stunned silence, forcing Cutter back to reality with a crash; he saw her getting to her feet and sprint towards the anomaly, and he realised what she was going to do. As quick as he physically could, he jumped down off the tree, staggering slightly as his feet hit the floor. He recovered himself instantly and tore after her, only catching her a few feet before the anomaly.

"NO!" he yelled, flinging his arms around her to restrain her.

She was shaking violently, obviously in deep shock. He vaguely registered Abby, Conner and Sarah running towards them, but he hardly cared; all he was concerned about was stopping Jenny going through the anomaly. She fought his grip fiercely, pushing him off her with such strength that it took all of his own strength to hold her back.

"Get off!" she screamed, tears gushing down her face.

"I said no!" he bellowed.

"Nick, he's my brother!" she shouted, trying to throw his arms off her, but he held her tighter.

In a last ditch attempt to free herself, it seemed, she turned and sent a right hook into the side of Cutter's face. Pain blinded him momentarily, and for a second, he was so dazed that he staggered backwards, his arms sliding from around her.

In a second, she was gone.


	11. The search

Chapter 11

Numbly, Cutter stared at the anomaly as the rest of the team crashed around him.

"Jenny!" Abby shouted desperately at the anomaly, to no avail.

Cutter glanced around and spotted the gun case. Heart beating twice as fast as normal, he slammed it shut and grabbed it up, and made to follow Jenny through the anomaly, but immediately, hands stopped him.

"Cutter, you can't!" Conner said in disbelief. "You need to wait for Becker - "

"Look, I'm going through whether you like it or not," Cutter replied in a dangerous whisper. "Now you can either help me or get the hell out of my way."

He saw them all exchange worried glances, before Conner spoke again.

"What can we do?"

"Call Becker; tell him to get some back up down here now. If we're not back through in half an hour, sent some soldiers through. And give me your bag," Cutter added, thinking that any supplies could only help.

"My bag?" Conner repeated, looking surprised.

"Conner, now!" Cutter bellowed, impatient to get going.

"Right, right," Conner squeaked, hurrying to get the bag off his shoulders.

Cutter took it, and without a backwards glance, walked forwards into the flickering light.

* * *

Jenny crouched behind a tree, straining her ears to try and hear any sounds in the distance. Her first instinct was to shout for Chris, but her common sense stopped her; she was sure that screaming her lungs out in some prehistoric era was not the brightest idea. Still, she couldn't see anything living, human or other wise, and that was scaring her more than any giant lizard could. Surely he couldn't have gone far? Unless . . . no, she would let her thoughts go there . . . he wasn't dead . . . he _couldn't_ be.

A sudden scurrying noise from up the slope behind her made her start; she whirled around and aimed her gun at the figure, only to drop it again with relief when she realised it was Cutter. He looked furious, his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes narrowed; and with a pang of guilt, she saw that his lip was bleeding from her punch. She thought she was about to yell at her, but when he spoke, his voice was strained in a forced calm manner.

"Have you found him yet?"

"No," she answered quietly.

"Right, we're leaving. _Now_," he said in a commanding voice, dropping the case and a bag on the floor.

"You leave," she snapped, turning her attention back to the woodland around them. "I'm not going anywhere until I find my brother."

"Jenny, he could be anywhere!" Cutter burst out. "We should go back and let Becker and his men handle this - "

"Look, if you're not here to help me then just go back!"

He paused, breathing hard with anger. Finally, he dropped to his knees and fished about in the gun case, straightening up with a loaded gun in his hands.

"Thank you," she said curtly, secretly glad that he hadn't left her; she could do with another pair of eyes.

Silently, they walked deeper into the trees, Jenny treading carefully to prevent her heels getting caught in her dress.

* * *

Abby paced back and forth in front of the anomaly, her fear and frustration both fighting out for top billing; why weren't they back yet?

"They've been gone too long," Sarah said quietly, speaking the thought that was on all their minds.

Lester and Becker rounded the corner and approached them.

"We've convinced them all there's a fire, so that should keep them away for now," Lester informed them. "What happened?"

"Jenny's brother got knocked into the anomaly," Conner said, his voice shaking. "Cutter tried to stop her, but Jenny went through after him - "

"And I suppose Cutter couldn't help but play the hero again?" Lester drawled.

Abby felt a pang of irritation at his casual words; yes, of course Cutter followed her! It was Jenny. It's not like he would let anything happen to one of them, especially after losing Stephen. He should be praised for his bravery, not sneered at for his stupidity. No one dignified Lester's comment with a response, but he seemed to take their silence as confirmation.

"Superb," he said icily. "So I have two of my staff wandering around the past searching for a dead boy - "

"He might not be dead - " Conner interjected defensively.

"Oh lets not play the optimism card, it's gotten rather tiresome," Lester huffed, crossing his arms tightly.

"Shall I go in after them Sir?" Becker asked, taking a step forward.

"No," he replied firmly. "I'm not losing anyone else to this fools errand. How long have they been gone for?"

"Twenty minutes," Abby replied coldly.

Lester sighed, running his hand through his hair in obvious frustration.

"We'll give them another ten - " he began, but stopped to look at the anomaly, his eyes widening.

Abby glanced around at it, and saw with a jolt of relief that it was bulging, telling them that something or someone was about to come through. They all watched with bated breath, Abby praying that it wasn't another Dimetrodon . . .

A bloodied hand appeared first, followed by a roughed up looking body.

Chris.

He crawled through on all fours; Abby only recovering from the shock after he was fully out of the anomaly. All at once, they all rushed forward to help him; he looked battered and bruised, and a deep looking cut on his arm was bleeding freely.

"Get an ambulance," Lester ordered to Becker, who immediately got onto his walky-talky.

"Chris, where's Jenny?" Abby asked the man in her gentlest tone, but it was no use; he was trembling violently, and seemed incapable of speech.

* * *

The silence between Cutter and Jenny was suffocating, a bad atmosphere hung in the air between them like a toxic gas. Every now and then, she felt his eyes glaring at her, but she refused to look around at him, unwilling to give him a reason to have another go at her. Personally, she thought he had a nerve; if it was someone he loved, he wouldn't have questioned going through the anomaly after them. Why did he think Jenny should be any different? Well one thing was for sure; she was not leaving here without her brother, even if she had to wander around this god-forsaken place for years. And if Cutter didn't understand that, then he could go to hell.

"You know, this is just like you," Cutter accused, out of the blue.

"What?" Jenny snapped defensively.

"Stubborn and unreasonable," he answered with a glare. "Like that time in the church - "

She wheeled around to face him, laughing coldly.

"Oh, you mean the time when you held a gun to my head!"

"No, I was talking about how you refused to tell me who'd sent you. And will you just let the gun thing go," Cutter sighed. "I said I was sorry!"

"Cutter, you threatened to kill me!" she shouted in disbelief. "I think that warrants a little more than a feeble apology."

Cutter opened his mouth to argue back, but there was a noise ahead of them, forcing him into silence. He grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her down into a crouching position.

"It could be Chris," she pointed out, her heart in her throat.

"Or it could be another Dimetrodon," he retorted in a barely audible whisper. "And it'd be a lot easier to hide if you weren't wearing bright white."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is my wedding day inconveniencing you?" she snapped sarcastically.

"Wearing white . . ." he muttered under his breath. "Who are you trying to kid - "

"Ssssh!" she hissed, straining her ears to hear any sounds that were distinctly human.

The minutes ticked by slowly as they both listened, but only the sound of each others breathing could be heard over the rustling of the leaves.

"Look, we can't stay here forever, he might be injured!" Jenny spoke eventually, growing impatient of crouching in the shrubbery when her brother might be in danger.

Cutter bit his lip and thought for a moment.

"Okay," he breathed, straightening up slowly. "But I go first."

Jenny nodded, getting to her feet with difficulty, and followed him as he crept cautiously through the undergrowth, stopping dead every now and then to listen. As they walked a bit further, Cutter suddenly held out his hand to halt her, peering through the greenery.

"There," he breathed, pointing in between two trees.

Jenny followed his eye line and spotted what was clearly the Dimetrodon, sprawled on it's side, whether unconscious or dead, it was impossible to tell from this distance. After a few moments, Cutter turned to her.

"Stay here," he breathed.

"I will not!" she argued immediately, feeling a pang of injustice.

"Just do it!" he scowled, inching forwards towards the gigantic form.

Jenny obeyed reluctantly, raising her gun incase the creature woke up, keeping her ears pricked for any other sounds. She watched with trepidation as Cutter rounded the body, aiming his gun at the thing as he surveyed it through squinted eyes. Eventually, he crashed his way back through the bushes to her.

"Is it dead?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "No, it's knocked out. Abby's tranquilizers must have finally taken it's toll."

"And Chris?"

"No sign," he mumbled, his head hung. "Look, Jenny - "

"No Cutter, don't you dare," she cut him off, knowing what he was going to say, and not wanting to hear it.

Sighing, his gaze traveled casually up the slope they had just came down, but his eyes suddenly widened in shock.

"The anomaly!" he exclaimed, pointing up.

Before Jenny had even had a chance to look around, he had grabbed her around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder.

"Cutter, what on earth do you think you're doing?" she yelled in shock. "Put me down this instant!"

He ignored her, and started running as fast as he could, holding Jenny in a sort of fireman's lift as he went. Despite her protests, he only stopped when they were nearly up the hill.

"It's gone," he breathed numbly, putting her down so that she staggered to keep her footing.

She glanced around to where the anomaly had previously been flickering in the sunlight, but it was no where to be seen. Breathing hard, she fought to stop herself from shaking in shock, instead turning her attention to Cutter.

"Don't - you - ever - do - that - to - me - again!" she snarled at him, her voice quivering with anger.

"Well that's the last time I save you from anything!" he bellowed, his face red with fury.

"Is this what you call saving me?" she gapped, panic taking hold of her as she finally realised the gravity of the situation. "It's my _wedding day_, and I'm trapped in the past with YOU!" she exclaimed, poking him in the chest.

"You're the one who just came through without thinking about the consequences!"

"Okay, fine, it's my fault!" she conceded loudly. "But tell me Cutter, tell me that you wouldn't do exactly the same if it was someone you loved!"

For a moment it looked as though he was about to argue back, but thought better off it. He looked away from her, rubbing his hand through his short blonde hair, confusion etched on his face.

"That's what I thought," she said quietly, claiming victory.

Without another word to him, she turned and walked away, still determined to find her brother.

"Where are you going?" he shouted after her.

"To find Chris, where else?" she snapped, not bothering to look around.

However, she had only walked a few paces when he shouted her back.

"Hang on!" he called after her. She turned and saw him crouching down in front of where the anomaly had been seconds before. "Jenny, he's gone back!"

She sprinted back and leaned over him, hardly daring to breath.

"How do you know?" she demanded.

"Because there's a trail of blood leading towards the anomaly, look!" he pointed at a smudged red line, clearly splattered in the direction of the anomaly.

"Blood?" Jenny gasped, clamping her hands to her mouth and sinking down to sit on the hard ground, the adrenaline that had been keeping her going leaving her body. He was hurt . . . maybe he was dying . . . god, she needed to help him!

After a slight pause, Cutter lent down next to her, pulling her into his chest, his hand on the side of her face firmly in a gesture of comfort. Before she could stop herself, she was sobbing into his shirt. "Please let him be okay!"

"Don't worry," he said in a soothing voice, stroking her hair and rocking gently. "Conner and the others will get him seen to, he'll be fine. He's tough."

He held her for a long while as she composed herself; all the animosity between them vanishing with a few kind words. As they broke apart, Jenny looked up at him, her gaze drawn to his lip.

"You're bleeding,' she breathed, guilt pricking her again.

"It doesn't matter," he insisted, his arm still around her back.

"Yes it does," she argued.

She reached down to one of the many layers of her dress and ripped a large piece off the end. She screwed it up into a ball and touched it to his lip, hating the way he winced as she did so.

"I'm sorry I hit you," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," he mumbled, raising his hand and closing it around hers. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she was breathless, and it finally dawned on her why she had found it so easy to run away from her wedding.

Time seemed to stand still, the warmth of his hand making her skin tingle. She couldn't for the life of her break their eye contact -

"Grass," he spoke unexpectedly, bringing her back down to earth with a bump.

"What?" she asked, completely nonplus.

"Grass," he repeated, his hand releasing hers as he pulled at the withering grass they were sitting on.

"What about it?" she pushed, growing irritated at his cryptic manner.

He looked back up at her, looking baffled about something.

"There was no grass in the Permian era."


	12. Where are we?

**Sorry it's been a while since I've updated but here's an extra long chapter to make up for it x**

* * *

Chapter 12

Bemused, Cutter lifted himself to his feet, taking in his surroundings with new eyes. This wasn't right . . . the Permian era, from what he had studied, consisted of vast deserts and brittle shrubbery, not flowering meadows and woodland. Frantically, he began examining the trees around them, Jenny breathing down his neck persistently.

"What do you mean 'there was no grass'?" she probed, sounding concerned.

He didn't reply, too busy trying to figure out what on earth was going on. He ran his hands down the bark of the nearest tree, startled when he nudged a ladybird that flew into his face. Now that definitely wasn't right.

"Cutter, will you stop feeling up that tree for five seconds and tell me what the _hell_ is going on!" Jenny shouted, obviously frustrated at his failure to explain himself.

He turned back to her, still trying to put together the disconnected pieces in his head. She raised her eyebrows at him, studying his face with her dark eyes. Her hair that had previously been perfectly pinned in place was now ruffled, with tendrils falling around her face and bare shoulders.

"There were no ladybirds," he informed her. "And there were no flowers. Certainly not like _that_ anyway," he added, gesturing at a bunch of bluebells that were budding from the base of the tree trunk.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I'm an evolutionary zoologist, not an evolutionary botanist," he reasoned. "But yes, I'm pretty sure. And the air seems normal . . . the Permian era had much more oxygen . . ."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that we're not in the Permian era," he said, finally voicing the thought that had sprung into his head the first time he registered the presence of grass. "We're somewhere much later."

"But . . ." Jenny began, looking as confused as he felt. "What about Toothy back there?" she asked, gesturing in the general direction of the unconscious Dimetrodon. "Was it dated wrong?"

"It's possible that scientists might have misjudged it by a few thousand years or so, but we're talking _millions_ of years here, judging by the ladybird. I doubt that they'd be _that_ off the mark."

"So, what then?" Jenny said in a sigh that conveyed her annoyance at his lack of conclusive answers. "The only other explanation is . . ." she trailed off, and a look of dawning comprehension lit up her face, ". . . that it came here through another anomaly."

"Precisely," Cutter nodded, rather taken aback by her astuteness.

"Well then, where are we?"

He glanced around again, trying to gage the time period, but in truth, he could not discover any significant difference between this woodland and one in the twenty-first century.

"Somewhere recent," he concluded vaguely. "Very recent."

"How shrewd of you," she said icily, her voice seeping with sarcasm. "I'm so glad I'm trapped with an expert."

"Well I'm not bloody psychic!" Cutter burst out, stung by her insinuation. "I'd like to see you hazard a guess!"

"It's your job to know these things Cutter, not mine!" she snapped back.

"Aye, and your job is to lie for a living, how very classy," he retorted cruelly, his temper, which was always close to the surface these days, flaring up.

"You're not complaining when I'm cleaning up after your mess everyday," she yelled, looking furious.

"Oh no, don't get me wrong, I believe everyone should play to their strengths. And if your only talent is lying, then that's a shame."

"Go to hell!" she spat before turning her heel and storming off.

"Right back at you!" he bellowed after her.

He watched her as she marched off, wrestling between the fact that he was unwilling to let her out of his sight and his reluctance to go crawling after her - he didn't think he could stand her satisfaction if he chose the latter. However, as it soon became clear that she had no intention of turning back, he resigned himself to the fact that he had no choice but to follow her. With a growl of frustration, he took off after her through the trees.

"As fun as this is, I think we have more pressing matters to deal with here!" he said in a strained voice as he caught up to her.

She ignored him and continued crashing through the greenery with a fierce look on her eye.

"Look!" he grabbed her arm to halt her. She turned, still looking livid. "I'm sorry," he breathed, loosening the grip on her when he was pretty certain she was not about to take off again. "I didn't mean that . . . I'm just worried, that's all."

Her expression softened slightly, as she turned to him fully, tucking some stray hair back behind her ear. With a pang, he noticed that her white gold wedding ring caught the sunlight as she did so, but he forced his eyes away from it and rested them on her face. Silence drifted between them for a few moments before she spoke.

"Maybe, until we get back, we should try and . . . you know . . . put everything between us on hold," she suggested quietly.

This threw Cutter for a second . . . what did she mean 'everything between us'? His confusion must have shown on his face, as she clearly felt the need to justify her words. "I mean, maybe we should try and get along . . . for a while," she added with a weak smile.

He laughed at her last words to hide the burning disappointment in his stomach . . . for a fleeting moment, he thought that . . .

He shook himself mentally.

"Aye," he nodded, smiling wryly. "That's a good idea."

She returned his smile with a gentle one of her own.

"I'm sorry too," she sighed. "It's just that - "

"I know," Cutter soothed, confident that he knew exactly what was on her mind.

"It's my wedding day," she continued with a humourless laugh, as though the notion was utterly preposterous. "_My wedding day_. And we're stuck somewhere in the past . . . and I'm wearing this ridiculous thing," she gestured down to her disheveled dress.

"It's going to be okay," he said in his most comforting voice, reaching forward and squeezing her arm. "We'll find a way back . . . we always do."

"Ever the optimist," she laughed dryly, her eyes glistening as she looked away from him.

Again, silence fell between them, although not nearly as uncomfortable as the former one.

"What are we going to do about the Di-what-ever-it-is?" she asked eventually.

"Just avoid it, I suppose," Cutter sighed.

"But if it's not meant to be here, then surely we can't let it live."

"What - kill it?" he said, perplexed.

Jenny shrugged. "It seems like the only option."

"We could try and get it back through the anomaly?" he suggested hopefully.

"Cutter, we don't know where the anomaly is!" she burst out, sounding aspirated. "And even if we did, what are we meant to do, ask it nicely to scoot on home?"

"All right, all right!" he scowled, glancing in the direction of the Dimetrodon.

He felt rather put out shooting the ancient creature while it was in slumber; somehow it felt underhanded . . . cowardly even. But he knew that Jenny was right; if it didn't belong in this time period, they couldn't let it roam around here - who knows what it could change?

* * *

"I still think we should have brought all the guns with us," Jenny said, sounding deep in thought as they continued journeying through the trees in the hopes of discovering where on earth - or more accurately, where in time - they were.

Cutter had Connor's bag on his shoulder, which contained the hand-held anomaly detector, and both of them held their gun of choice; the rest of the weapons had been hidden under a wild bush that would be easily distinguishable when they returned to fetch them.

"They would have slowed us down," Cutter reasoned, his eyes darting around wildly and his ears strained for any sounds that didn't belong to them.

Every now and then, Jenny went over on her heel when she stepped on a fallen twig or an inconveniently placed rock, and Cutter caught her arm to stop her from falling. It wasn't like he could chide her like he usually did for her inappropriate footwear - it was her wedding day after all; she was hardly likely to be wearing trainers.

Suddenly, an odd sound reached his ears, and immediately, he held out hand in front of Jenny to halt her.

"Can you hear that?" he whispered, looking around at her.

She shook her head, her brow furrowed as she also listened intently. What sounded like a giggling noise issued from the trees somewhere to their right. Jenny glanced back around at him, looking as bemused as he felt. He pressed his finger to his lips and raised his gun, inching towards the bushes. He could feel Jenny's cool breath quicken on the back of his neck as they both peered through the greenery.

Cutter's jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

In a clearing ahead of them, a man and a woman in their early twenties were kissing passionately; their arms entwined around each other and their hands groping at the other fiercely. However, it was the way they were dressed that drew Cutter's attention; the woman wore a jade green corset dress of thick material that bunched out at the hips, falling to the floor heavily; her hair was blonde and long, flowing down her back. Her companion donned black baggy pants, with shin-high boots and a white, loose-fitting top. His hair was also long, almost poetic, and fell around his face in waves.

These people obviously didn't come from the twenty-first century.

He looked around at Jenny, too shocked to speak, and saw the same stunned look mirrored in her face. In unison, they looked back at the rather steamy scene unfolding merely ten feet in front of them. The man had pushed the woman against the bark of a tree, and was ripping at the lace on her back to remove her dress. She, in turn, was tugging at his pants.

"My goodness," Jenny breathed, her tone a mixture of surprise and amusement.

"Yeah . . ."

"Are those clothes - "

"Fifteen hundreds, I'd say," he whispered back.

"They're acting rather . . . _inappropriate _for the fifteen hundreds don't you think?"

"What, did you think everyone then sat around a fire knitting?" Cutter asked numbly, unable to tear his eyes away from the pair.

Before long, clothing littered the ground a few feet from them, forgotten by their owners, who were much to engrossed in . . . other matters.

"We shouldn't be watching this," Cutter muttered to Jenny eventually, feeling himself grow hot around the neck with embarrassment.

"Why come out here to do that?" Jenny whispered, now seeming unfazed by the whole thing. "Why risk getting caught?"

"I don't know, do I?" Cutter replied hotly. "Some people like that sort of thing, don't they?"

"Some people?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Oh, I don't mean me," he retorted, feeling the need to justify himself.

She looked back at the couple, her lips twitching as though she was suppressing a smile.

"What I mean is, the only reason they'd come out here is if they were doing something wrong," she stated in a ringing tone.

"They could be married for all you know!"

"He is wearing a wedding band, and she is _not_," she pointed out smugly.

"Nice observation," Cutter smirked. "After we get back, you should go into solving crimes."

Unable to stand listening to the loud groaning any longer, Cutter turned to leave, pulling on Jenny's arm as he did so. However, she resisted him.

"Wait!" she hissed, pulling him back down into a crouch. "We should take their clothes!"

"What?" Cutter spluttered in disbelief.

"Their clothes," she repeated as though it was a reasonable suggestion.

"Jenny, we haven't got time for silly pranks - "

"It's not a prank you idiot!" she breathed hotly. "We could take them so we can blend in better. I can't exactly go walking around in the fifteen hundreds in a wedding dress!"

Cutter laughed in incredulity. "You're serious aren't you?"

"As a heart attack," she replied immediately.

Cutter sighed deeply, rubbing his hand over his forehead as he considered this. She was right, of course; it would make it easier if they were dressed in clothing appropriate for the time. But still . . . stealing clothes off a canoodling couple . . . it was wrong. Although, by the looks of it, they wouldn't be needing them for a long time . . .

"What if they see us?" Cutter asked in his last ditch attempt to dispute the idea.

"Cutter, I think you could stand up and sing and they wouldn't notice you," she grinned, pointing over at them. "Go on, don't be such a wuss. The clothes are only an arm stretch away!"

Grumbling to himself, Cutter leaned forwards, stretching his hands through the bush, hoping to God that this act wouldn't change anything in their time.

* * *

Jenny and Cutter only stopped running once they had put a reasonable distance between the oblivious copulating couple. Jenny bent over to catch her breath, her hands on her thighs, as Cutter crashed along side her, gasping for breath himself. She looked up at him with a smile, and before they both knew it, they were in an unstoppable fit of laughter.

"Can you imagine their faces when they realise their clothes are gone!" Jenny giggled, feeling her spirits soar; it's surprising what a little mischief could do for her mood.

"It's not their faces I'm imagining!" Cutter interjected, handing her the green dress.

Jenny laughed hard, before throwing her gun on the leaf-strewn ground and holding up the dress to get a better look. The woman it had belonged to, Jenny had observed, was skinnier than she was herself, but the dress looked like it would fit her, even if it was a tight squeeze. She reached around to undo the zip in her wedding dress, before hesitating.

"Um, Cutter, do you want to turn round?" she asked with her eyebrows raised.

"Oh, of course . . . sorry," he stammered sheepishly, turning his back on her.

She continued to pull her zip down, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cutter pull off his jacket and shirt. Her heart throbbed at the sight of his bare back, and to calm herself, she turned away from him fully, concentrating on stepping out of her once-pristine white dress. She felt very vulnerable, standing half naked in the woods with Cutter next to her, although she knew that he wouldn't look around; he was too much of a gentleman to pull anything like that. Still, she pulled the green dress on as quickly as possible, surprised to find that it fitted rather snugly. However, when she reached around to her back to tie up the strings, she found that they were at too awkward an angle for her to do up herself.

"Cutter?" she said, turning around to find him fully dressed, still with his back to her. As he faced her, she couldn't help but put her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. He looked like someone out of Robin Hood.

"What?" he asked defensively, looking down at himself.

"Nothing," she smirked, still fighting the overwhelming desire to laugh. "So . . . are your band of Merry men around here somewhere?"

"Oh haha," he retorted, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry, you look very . . . _dashing_ . . ." she teased. "Could you do me up?" she added, turning to show him the loose laces on the back of the dress.

He paused for a moment, his expression unreadable, before approaching her cautiously. As soon as she felt the warmth of his fingers on her back, her pulse began to race alarmingly fast, making her cheeks flush. She pressed her lips together, looking up at the tree canopy to try and distract herself from his touch. He fumbled at the lace, pulling a little to tightly.

"Owch!" she chided, her hand on her stomach.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I don't really know how to do these . . ."

"The trick is to tighten it enough so that it sucks me in, but so I can still breathe," she snapped.

"You don't need sucking in," he said, his voice warm as though he was smiling.

Jenny was glad she had her back to him, as she would find it hard to conceal her blushing otherwise.

_Why did this man make her feel like a silly teenager again!_

With difficulty, she wrenched her mind away from the man behind her and tried to focus it on Mark; the man who she had said 'I do' to merely hours ago. What would he be thinking now? That she had jilted him? And if - _when _- they got back, would he still want her? A tiny thought flickered to the edge of her mind . . .

_Would she still want him?_

"All done," Cutter's voice pierced her thoughts, as he withdrew his hands from her back, although she could still feel the warmth of his touch on her skin.

"Thanks," she said quietly, turning back to him and smoothing her hands over her hips. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," he smiled, before rearranging his expression into an impassive look. "You look . . . fine," he corrected himself, his gaze becoming fixed on the ground.

Jenny looked away, feeling uncomfortable at his words, although strangely enough, not in an annoyed way; more like in a flustered manner.

After a silence that seemed to drag on for eternity, Cutter spoke.

"Maybe we should - " he began in a solemn voice, but he was cut off by a sudden rumbling in the distance.

He froze, his eyes widening in fear as he looked around the seemingly deserted forest.

"Cutter, what - ?" Jenny said, panicked by the worry in his eyes, but he held up his hand to force her into silence.

In a flash, he had gathered up their discarded clothes and the guns, flinging them in the bushes as the sound grew closer. All of a sudden, at least ten soldiers on horseback burst out of the greenery in front of them, making Jenny shriek in shock.

"Halt! In the name of the King!" a booming voice echoed.

Cutter raised his hands up to indicate that he was unarmed, moving to stand in front of Jenny protectively. The soldiers had surrounded them in a second, their long metal spears pointing directly at them.

"Why are you trespassing on private land?" one of them demanded. "Speak!"

* * *

**Dun dun dun!**

**This idea might seem childish, or even stupid, but I personally would have loved an anomaly to have opened in a significant human time period (the knight episode DID NOT count, as it didn't have Cutter or Jenny in it!). To be fair on me, I am a **_**massive **_**history geek. Well, just a geek in general really :p I wasn't going to put it in, but then I thought hell, it's my fic :) I'll just go with it.**

**I hope you like anyway! Let me know x**


	13. What they left behind

Chapter 13

"No!" Abby heard herself scream at the shriveling light of the anomaly, although she couldn't remember her mouth actually forming the words.

She jumped to her feet, for a moment forgetting all about tending to Chris, but there were no words that could stop the portal from closing. There was nothing they could do. In a second, the dancing lights had dissipated entirely and in it's place was nothing but the beautiful, picturesque landscape that was still and calm; it was as though the anomaly had never existed. A ripple of shock descended over the team as they stared at the deserted space in front of them. From beside her, Abby heard Sarah let out a dry sob.

"No . . ." Connor muttered, "No, they can't be - "

"What are the chances of it reopening?" Lester interrupted sharply, his cool professional tone not quite masking the worry in his voice.

"I . . . I don't know . . ." Conner murmured almost incoherently, running his hands through his hair.

"What's going on?" Chris's voice cut into the tense atmosphere. He was still on the ground, but seemed to be becoming more and more alert with each passing moment. He heaved himself up on his elbows, looking around with wide, fearful eyes. "Where's Jenny?"

From the distance, the sound of ambulance sirens could be heard growing closer.

"Becker, go and meet the ambulance," Lester ordered to the soldier under his breath. Immediately, Becker took off towards the entrance of the grounds and Lester then turned to Chris. "Mr Lewis," he said in a strained voice. He was clearly thinking fast. "We believe that your sister had been - has been kidnaped."

Abby exchanged a surprised look with Sarah. When had this cover story been concocted? Sure, Abby supposed, it was much better to say that Jenny had been taken rather than that she had left voluntarily. That way it didn't look like she'd jilted her fiancé. But still, to say to her family that she'd been kidnaped was very extreme. Unsurprisingly, by the look on Chris's face, it was clear that he wasn't buying the story.

"No, don't - don't you give me that!" he stammered angrily, still shaking as he got to his feet, cradling his injured arm. The blood from his wound was already seeping through the thin pale blue material of Abby's cardigan she had wrapped around it. "I - I saw that . . . that _thing_ . . . and that light. There was a completely different place through the light!"

"What did the place look like?" Abby asked in the most gentle voice she could muster.

"Trees . . . lots of trees," Chris answered in a shaky voice. "And leaves and grass . . . look, will someone just tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Are you sure there was grass?" Connor exclaimed insistently.

"Yes, I'm positive," Chris replied in an aspirated voice. "Now will someone please tell me where my sister is!"

"Look, Mr Lewis," Lester began in a much more forceful tone. "When you're seen to, I promise, I will tell you everything you want to know. But for now, I need you to work with us, and not say anything about what you saw to anyone. Especially your family - "

"Just tell me where she is!"

"We don't know!" Lester bellowed back, his impassive air melting away with impatience.

"We know she's safe," Abby interjected softly, throwing Lester a chiding look. "She's with Cutter, and he won't let anything happen to her, I promise. But for now, you have to promise not to say anything."

"But - "

"Jenny wouldn't want you to jeopardize the future of our project," Lester reasoned in a much calmer tone. "She knows that it's worth risking her life to protect our secret."

Chris scowled deeply, looking at Lester as though he was about to punch him. After a moments pause, he spoke in a quiet voice.

"She's safe?"

"She's safe," Lester nodded in a false confident voice. "And we'll get her back. But for now - "

"For now, I know nothing," Chris finished his sentence in a monotone voice. "And you'll tell me everything?"

After a moments hesitation, Lester nodded reluctantly. "As long as you go along with our cover story. Jenny and Cutter were kidnaped by an extremist group due to their knowledge of a sensitive project for the government. You saw her being dragged away by men in masks, and you tried to help, but you were knocked unconscious. And when you woke up, she was gone. Are we clear?"

Chris stared into the distance for another moment, before nodding his head a fraction of an inch. Then, he stepped forward so that his face was merely centimeters away from Lester's. Even though Chris towered above him, Lester's expression remained unfazed, and he looked up at him with cold eyes. "But if anything happens to her . . ." Chris snarled quietly.

He obviously didn't feel the need to finish this threat, as the hint was clearly conveyed. Abby felt her stomach clenching uncomfortably, either because she didn't like the lies that would be sure to follow when they finally had to explain the 'kidnap' situation to Jenny's family, or because to the thought of Jenny and Cutter themselves trapped god-knows where. What is the anomaly never opened again? What if -

_No_, Abby shook herself mentally as Becker rejoined them with two paramedics and a stretcher. _Don't think like that . . . it will open again . . . _

_It will._

* * *

It was hours later that Abby found herself sitting heavily on the steps of the hotel entrance, looking out onto the deserted wedding ceremony. She couldn't believe that it was only earlier that day that she had watched Jenny walking down that aisle, looking beautiful and glowing in her white wedding dress. It felt like another life time ago.

Sighing deeply, she buried her head in her hands and screwed up her eyes at the memory of earlier; when they had been confronted with the rest of Jenny's family. Just thinking about it made a knot tighten in her stomach. The horrified expression of her mother . . . the terrified look in Mark's eyes . . . their face's were etched into Abby's memory, and seemed unlikely to ever fade.

"_You!" Jenny's mum pointed at Abby, angry tears spilling down her face. "You were there last night at the hen party. You're her friend! Where is she?"_

"_I - "_ _Abby began, a painful lump in her throat._

"_Just tell me WHERE SHE IS!" she screamed,_ _shaking Abby by_ _her shoulders._

"_She doesn't know!" Connor cried from next to her, nearly in tears himself. "None of us do!"_

"_This is your fault!" Mark accused, pointing at Lester. "You're her boss! You were meant to keep her safe!"_

"_We did all we could -!"_ _Lester argued, looking uncharacteristically rattled._

"_NO!" Mark bellowed, his face bright red with fury. "This is all on you! Why weren't any of you taken? Hmm? Why was it my fiancee?"_

To Abby, the memory felt like a bucket of cold ice had been poured over her. She opened her eyes again reluctantly, surprised to find that darkness had descended even further over the deceptively peaceful grounds. In the distance, she could see a figure walking towards her across the garden, and even from that far away, she could tell that it was Connor. When he reached her, he took a seat on the step above her, sitting down with a sigh.

"How you holding up?" he said in a forced cheerful voice.

Abby laughed humourlessly and looked around at him. "What do you think?"

He paused for a second, the weak smile slipping from his face.

"I know . . ." he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. "I know."

"Do you think it'll re-open again?" Abby asked, knowing that he couldn't give her the answer she was looking for.

He reached forward and put his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her gently. "Of course it will," he said in a stronger voice. "I know it will. And it's not like we have to worry about them in the mean time. I mean, this is Jenny and Cutter we're talking about here. They're tougher than all of Becker's soldiers put together."

Abby chuckled slightly, in complete agreement. "That's if one of them doesn't kill the other before they get back. I doubt even being trapped together would have done anything to improve their relationship."

Connor squeezed her again, smiling gently. For a while, they both stared out into the darkening garden, lost in their own thoughts. Lester had gone back to the ARC a while ago, along with Becker and Sarah. A few soldiers had been left behind to guard the anomaly site, but other than that, there was little need for everyone to stay here. They were of no use, just staring out into the anomaly-less grounds. Abby, however, had been unable to bring herself to leave, despite Sarah's protests that she needed a good nights sleep. Instead, she felt like it was best to wait at the hotel a little longer, just on the off chance . . .

Connor had insisted upon staying with her of course, which was a comfort, if only a small one. Abby was unsure of where Jenny's family where, but she couldn't even bring herself to comprehend what they were going through. One child in hospital; the other 'kidnaped' . . . she felt a pang of guilt at the thought - _surely_ they could have come up with a better cover story? One that would have given her family a little solace?

With another deep sigh, Abby leaned back on Connor, feeling calmer in his uncharacteristically quiet presence, and hoping to God that they would strike lucky, and that the anomaly would reappear before everything crumbled around them.

* * *

**Sorry I haven't updated, I'm mad busy and, for the 1****st**** time ever, I had a bit of writers block :( But I shall soldier on! This chapter, although Jutter-less, was mainly to show that I haven't lost interest in writing the story and that I will continue with the Nick/Jenny asap x**


	14. Into the thicket

Chapter 14

If Jenny had ever been scared before, then it paled in comparison to how she felt now. Then again, it's not like she had ever had ten spears pointed at her before. The metal glinted in the sunlight like gleaming evil eyes, merely inches away from their heads, the soldiers that wielded them were dressed in blood-red puffy clothing with golden embroidery along the collar and necklines. They sat proudly on their horses, who's hooves kicked the ground impatiently. Jenny's mind went blank, panic taking hold of her; from beside her, she could practically hear Cutter's mind buzzing with excuses to get them out of this.

"We, um, we got lost," Cutter answered eventually in a clear voice, which was surprisingly steady.

"You got lost?" a second soldier repeated, his voice laced with cold amusement.

The other soldiers around him sniggered as though they thought it was a joke.

"Do you know where you are, sir?" the first soldier sneered, steadying his unsettled horse. "You are in the grounds of Hampton Court."

Hampton Court . . .

That certainly rang a bell in Jenny's head. She was sure she had visited there with her parents when she was child. Although in their time, it was nothing more than a tourist attraction; here, however . . .

"We - we didn't know," Cutter stammered, his voice strained. "We're . . . we're not from London . . ."

"Clearly," the first soldier said, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Scotland, I presume?"

"Yes," Cutter nodded nervously.

"And why are you in England?"

"To, erm . . . to find work," Cutter lied in a more confident voice.

"And do you know it's against the law to trespass on His Majesty's land without the correct permits?"

Jenny's stomach turned over. If they were arrested, they wouldn't be able to get back to the anomaly when it opened. And worse still, if people started probing deeper into their presence here, who knows what they would discover? Perhaps a dead Dimetrodon, an angry naked couple, not to mention a case full of guns that she was pretty sure didn't exist in the sixteenth century.

"I - " Cutter began, clearly struggling to come up with a reasonable excuse.

"I think, sir, that it would be more prudent if you were to accompany us back to Court where we could discuss this further," the first soldier interrupted sharply. "Our laws stipulate that trespassers are to be formally questioned."

"I assure you that we meant no harm," Cutter said, a slightly desperate edge in his voice. Perhaps he was thinking along the same lines as Jenny; they couldn't afford to venture too far from the anomaly site.

"Just the same," the soldier said in a matter-of-fact voice. "We will need you to come with us. Do you have horses?"

"No, we traveled on foot," Cutter replied bitterly, clearly consigned to the fact that they couldn't talk their way out of this one.

The soldier Cutter had been conversing with for the most part turned to two of his companions. "Stay here, and make sure they don't leave," he ordered, before returning his gaze to Cutter. "We will fetch a horse for you and your . . . sweetheart," he added, glancing at Jenny for the first time. "And I shall inform His Majesty of your presence on his lands."

Without a further word, the soldier turned his horse around and called to his men to follow, leaving behind the two he had ordered to watch them.

After a few moments, it became clear that these men were rather bored with the whole proceeding, and talked in hushed voices amongst themselves, taking no further heed of either of them.

"What do we do?" Jenny breathed to Cutter, barely moving her lips in fear that the soldiers would hear.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," he murmured back, his voice panicked.

"Well think faster," she hissed, her anxiousness coming out as unreasonable annoyance.

He gave her a withering look, but didn't snap back, probably to busy concocting up one of his maverick plans. A part of her wanted to keep prompting him, but she controlled herself, aware that it wouldn't help the situation. However, in the end, it seemed that no plan was necessary - one was already in line to create a diversion.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted something moving in the bushes. This apparently didn't go unnoticed by the soldiers, who paused and raised their spears slightly. After a moment, they urged their horses towards the bush, one of them cautiously raising their hands to pull the leaves aside. So absorbed was Jenny in seeing what was hiding there that she barely registered Cutter's hand close around her wrist tightly. With a sharp yank, the soldier moved the branches, and yelped in shock, his horse backing up nervously. A lady's squealed, and Jenny distinctly caught sight of bare skin contrasted against the greenery -

It was the couple they had stolen the clothes off, trying to cover up their modesty with shrubbery.

"What in God's name - ?" one of the soldiers exclaimed, his face a picture of shock.

Suddenly, Jenny felt a sharp tug on her wrist, and before she was even aware that she was moving, green blurs passed her as she was being pulled through the trees and wild bushes by Cutter at lightening speed. Struggling to keep up Cutter's pace in her heels, Jenny forced herself to keep going even though she knew it was hopeless - the soldiers were on horseback for goodness sake! It's not as if they could outrun them! She didn't dare turn around, but she could feel that the soldiers were pursuing them; muffled shouts could be heard from behind them, although they sounded distant. Despite the fact that they were on horseback, it seemed that they couldn't keep up with them, and for a moment, Jenny could fathom why. That is until she realised what Cutter's plan was. He was pulling her into a tangle of undergrowth, were the trees were packed so tightly together that even they had difficulty meandering between them, let alone horses. Either the soldiers were trapped in shrubbery and unable to follow closely, or else they had abandoned their horses and were pursing on foot.

Unexpectedly, Cutter looked as though he had fallen, and with a massive force, he dragged Jenny down with him. However, it soon became clear that he had deliberately thrown himself to the ground with the intent of crawling into a wild thicket. Breathing hard, he nodded silently to indicate that Jenny should go in first, and without argument, she scampered under the sharp twigs, fighting against the branches that caught on her dress. There was such little space that she was forced to crawl in on her stomach. She turned on her back when she decided she was in deep enough, and was startled when Cutter settled on top of her. The inappropriateness of it was overshadowed by the blatant fact that there was no room for him to lie beside her, or indeed, anywhere else other than on her. Despite knowing that this was neither the time, nor the place, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. It felt too close . . . too _intimate_. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek, making her skin tingle in a way that was indescribable. He, however, seemed unfazed by their close proximity; his expression vacant as he strained to listen for any sounds from around them. She was aware that she, herself, was panting; her breathing erratic due to the combined tiredness from their sprint and the weight of Cutter, making it difficult for her to draw a significant breath. This wasn't helped by the fact that Cutter suddenly decided to clamp his hand over her mouth, his eyes wide in fear. She looked back up at him, listening hard for whatever sounds he had picked up on.

The shuffling of leaves could be heard, alarmingly close, coupled with male voices that could only be the soldiers.

"He couldn't have traveled far, he was with a woman," one of the voices said, making Jenny feel a slight pang of annoyance. She had to remind herself that they were in the sixteenth century, not to mention in grave danger, to stop herself tutting aloud.

It was clear that the soldiers must have dismounted their horses, as a black shiny boot appeared to their side, just about visible through the thick leaves and twigs. Involuntarily, Jenny gasped against Cutter's palm; she hadn't know they were so close. All they had to do was peer into the bush, and they were done for. Cutter increased the pressure of his hand on her mouth slightly in a warning; she could tell that he was holding his breath as when his lips brushed against her cheek, she couldn't feel a tickle of air.

"I say we go back and wait for Brandon to return," a different voice said. "We're more likely to find the trespassers with more men."

Another voice murmured in agreement, and the boot that they could see vanished from sight. More leaves crunched as the sounds of the mens voice faded into the distance.

Cutter and Jenny remained frozen for a few moments, neither daring to breath incase they drew the soldiers attention back to them. At long last, the hand dropped from Jenny's face, and Cutter placed his head into the crook of her neck, sighing deeply with relief. Jenny, herself squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tension alleviate somewhat.

How long they stayed there, Jenny couldn't even begin to guess, but she herself had no desire to leave their hiding place. True, it wasn't the most comfortable position she'd ever been in, with stones digging into her back and one of her work colleagues on top of her . . . but needs must. If they moved too soon, they could still be discovered. Cutter seemed to be thinking along the same lines as her, as he to showed no hurry in wanting to get moving. On the contrary, he shifted himself so that he rested on her more comfortably, and he propped himself up on his lower arms to support some of his own weight and lessen the pressure on her.

"You alright?" he mouthed to her, obviously being cautious incase the soldiers were near by.

She nodded, not quite knowing how one was to respond when someone asks if you're fine with them lying on top of you. A sudden image flashed in her head of the dream she had woken up from that very morning; of him pressing against her in a similar manner, his lips leaving a trail of breathy kisses down her neck, and his fingers gliding across her skin. With difficulty, she wrenched her mind back to reality and forced herself to look up into his eyes.

"I'm sorry about . . . this . . ." he muttered, gesturing down at themselves, his cheeks appearing flushed even in the semi-darkness that the surrounding leaves cast them in.

"It's fine," she breathed back, trying to act dismissive whilst desperately attempting to control her wildly beating heart; he was pressed against her chest so much so that she was certain he was aware that it's rate had quickened.

Cutter shuffled himself again, wincing uncomfortably.

"By the way, that's my mobile," he spoke unexpectedly.

"What?"

"It's my mobile. In my pocket. I brought it in incase we get back and need to ring someone to come and get us. Just incase you thought that - "

"No! I - I didn't think . . ." she stammered, feeling mortified. "I - I can't feel anything," she added lamely, although truthfully - the material of the dress was so thick that she wouldn't be able to feel any object pressed against her, be it a mobile phone . . . something else . . .

After a few moments of unbearable silence, Jenny spoke again, more so to break the palpable sexual tension rather than actually wanting to know the answer. "Should we move?" she asked tentatively.

He paused for a moment, as though considering it.

"I'm perfectly happy for us to stay like this, if I'm honest," he said eventually, his lips twitching with a faint smile. He was obviously trying to inject a bit of humour into the awkwardness.

Reluctantly, Jenny smiled also, feeling her cheeks burn. She cleared her throat slightly before speaking. "If my hands were free, Cutter, I would slap you for that comment."

* * *

**To be continued :) x**


	15. Close contact

Chapter 15

Cutter felt his arms aching more and more with the effort of holding his own weight up, but he couldn't very well relax them and lean all his weight on Jenny. It was bad enough that he was pressed up against her in the first place, their faces so close that he would barely have to move his head to kiss her if he had been so inclined to do so. Not that he would. Maybe before, when she had not walked down the aisle, then maybe he would have given into the wild adrenaline-induced impulse he had to pull her lips onto his. But not now. She had agreed to marry another man, she had said in front of all her friends and family that she wanted to be Mrs Mark Banks, and Cutter had too much self-respect to try it on with a woman who had said 'I do' to someone else hours before. What would be the point?

Shifting himself, he looked down at her again. Her hair was messy and falling out of her bun, splaying across the ground around her. Her green dress was tight and rather low, revealing her bare skin that looked tantalizingly pale, so much so that Cutter found that he had to force himself to look away for fear of being caught staring. Instead, he tried to keep his eyes fixed on her face rather than on that creamy and achingly desirable skin. This close, the smell of her perfume filled his nostrils, making him feel intoxicated and light headed. As their gazes met, he observed that she flushed slightly; her brown eyes lighting up, which he found himself staring in to.

He cleared his throat, and broke their eye contact.

"I - I think we should wait until it's night time before we move," he stated, picking a spot on the ground to stare at. "At least then we'll have the cover of darkness."

"Okay," she sighed, her soft breath brushing against his cheek. "But . . ."

"What?"

"There's a big stone sticking into my back," she grimaced apologetically. "It's really starting to hurt."

"Hang on," he said, leaning his weight onto one arm and running the other around her. She arched her back, inadvertently pressing herself against him more, and he tried to ignore the fact that he could trace the curvature of her spine through her dress as he fished for the stone.

"Cutter - " she began after a few moments of unsuccessful feeling.

"Just a minute."

"Cutter, my arms going numb," she snapped.

"I can't feel it."

"It's a little to the right," she informed him.

"I can't get to it," he scowled. "Maybe if we both go on our side - "

They both tried to shuffle themselves awkwardly.

"Jenny, just move your arm - "

"I can't, I'm stuck," Jenny answered in a strained voice.

He felt her try and wrench her arm out from underneath him, and he jerked upwards to try and make it easier for her. However, at the same time, it seemed she had decided to jolt upwards herself, causing their foreheads smacked together painfully.

"Owch!" Jenny cried, lying back on the ground.

"Sorry," Cutter grumbled, rubbing his forehead against the splitting pain. "Look, if we go on our side, it'll be more comfortable for the both of us . . ."

"That's debatable," she muttered, breathing hard.

"Okay, come on lets try again . . ."

Cutter put one hand on her hip, trying to maneuver himself off her as gently as possible. As he rested his shoulder on the hard ground, he reached around her waist and pulled her so that she rolled with him onto her side. Despite the fact that it was less awkward now that he was no longer in between her legs, their faces were still uncomfortably close.

"Is that better?" he asked, and she nodded quickly.

* * *

It was only another hour or so until dusk, Cutter guessed, but time seemed to stand still under there, whether because of the general uncomfortableness or the unnerving close proximity to Jenny, he was unsure. A while ago, it looked like she was in pain with the side of her head on the hard ground, and so Cutter, caught up in a disastrous second, had put his arm under her to give her a mild relief. She had looked slightly taken-aback, but accepted his gesture without question and with a grateful smile. However, with each second that crept by, Cutter found himself regretting this decision more and more. It felt way to intimate; the sort of position only lovers should be in, perhaps in bed on a Sunday morning.

He gulped, and looked away, desperately trying to come up with a train of conversation to take his mind off her closeness.

"We should play a game or something," he said stupidly. "It'd make the time pass quicker."

"A game?" she asked suspiciously. "If that was a dirty innuendo, Cutter, then you can keep dreaming - "

"No, I meant an actual game like . . . I spy?" he suggested wildly.

She laughed cruelly. "I'm not playing I spy!"

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, I actually have all of my chromosomes," she snapped. "And secondly, all's we can see is a bunch of leaves, and each other. Hardly spoilt for choice are we?"

"Okay, then you pick the game."

"I don't want to play _any_ game!"

"Fine, then we'll just keep lying here in silence," Cutter said in a ringing tone.

After a long pause -

"Fine," she sighed. "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'L'."

"Leaves?" Cutter suggested with a smile.

"Well done you," she said sarcastically, moving her head so that she could look up at him, her lips so close to his that Cutter suddenly found himself preying for darkness to fall so they could get out of here.

"Your turn," she continued, seemingly unaware of the effect she was having on him.

"Erm . . . you're probably right, there isn't much else to do," he mumbled, aware that his hand was still resting on her hip.

"Do you think . . ." she began in a small voice. "Do you think that the anomaly will open soon?"

"Of course it will," Cutter said in a false-confident voice, squeezing her in reassurance.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I'm a Professor, and we're always right," he joked with a smile.

"Oh," she nodded with a mocking look. "Silly me, I shouldn't have asked."

She fell silent again, putting her head down on his shoulder with a sigh, the sweet smell of her hair taking over him. Suddenly, he realised that despite the danger they were in, and despite the fact that they were about five hundred years away from home, he could happily stay under this bush with her the rest of time. He didn't think he had ever adored anyone more.

"What do you think Lester's told everyone?" she asked out of the blue.

"I - I don't know," Cutter answered honestly, finding it difficult to keep his voice steady. "They would have come up with a good story, don't worry."

"And . . . do you reckon Mark will think I've jilted him?"

Hearing her say his name aloud felt like the equivelent of taking a bullet. Forcing himself to remain calm, he spoke quietly, "Like I said, Lester will have come up with something."

"Oh, come on Nick," she sighed in aspiration. "Think about how it looks. I run out on my wedding and disappear off the face of the planet with a male colleague that he was already suspicious about. How does that look to you?"

"It looks complicated," he reasoned fairly. "And what do you mean he was already suspicious of me?"

Jenny hesitated for a second, looking uncomfortable.

"He . . ." she began quietly. "He remembered you from that night that you came around to my house. And he thinks I've been acting odd since I've joined the ARC. Coming home at all hours, and leaving our engagement party. And I couldn't very well tell him the truth. So automatically, he's just assumed . . . well, lets just say he's accused me of having an affair more than once."

"With me?" he gapped, feeling his heart skip a beat.

She nodded, biting her lip. "Of course, I told him it was all nonsense. And I think he believed me. But now . . ."

"Yeah," Cutter breathed, not quite knowing how to take that piece of information. "Maybe it doesn't look good. But I've seen you work miracles with the public, so spinning your fiancé a line should be easy for you."

She shook her head. "It's harder to lie to someone who knows you so well."

"Well it's not really a lie is it?" Cutter pointed out. "I mean, there _is_ nothing going on between us."

"Oh, of course not," she said quickly. "I didn't mean that."

Cutter smiled awkwardly, wishing that he had just kept his mouth shut - he had just made the atmosphere ten times more suffocating. And by the bemused look on her face, she felt the same. He needed to get out of this confined space, as it was beginning to play havoc with his self control. He knew that if he continued to lie there with her, he would do something stupid; perhaps something that would earn him a slap.

"Listen," he began. "I think I should go and try and get the guns and the anomaly detector. We can't afford to leave them here."

"I'll go with you - "

"No," he said immediately in the most commanding voice he could. "You stay here."

"No, I don't want to be here by myself!" she argued. "Not that I'm scared or anything," she added, clearly thinking he had the mistaken impression of her ability to handle herself. "I just don't fancy hiding in the bushes in the sixteenth century alone."

"I won't be long," he said gently, beginning to shuffle himself backwards.

"Cutter!" she shouted, grabbing him roughly by the shirt, forcing him to look back up at her scared expression. "Please," she continued quietly, the pleading in her voice cutting right into his heart.

Speechless, he froze, now unsure of what he should do. He didn't want to leave now, but that in itself meant that he had to go. Plus, they _did_ needed the anomaly detector to alert them as soon as the anomaly came back. He _had_ to go.

"I won't be long," he repeated insistently, squeezing her arm in a gesture of comfort, before continuing to shimmy downwards towards the hole in the bush.

However, just as he had nearly reached the entrance, a sudden thought popped into his head; if something happened to him while he was gone, she'd never know how he felt about her. She'd never know that since they had met, most of this thoughts had been dedicated to her and her alone. She'd never know that when he thought of his future, the fact that he couldn't see her in it made his chest convulse. Before he had time to dissuade himself, he launched back and crashed his lips against hers into a desperate, needy kiss. Her lips were wonderfully warm and soft underneath his, parted slightly in surprise. For one glorious unmistakable moment, he felt her kiss him back, her lips moving eagerly against his. However, as if she snapped herself out of it, she pushed him away suddenly with her hands on his chest, looking up at him with confusion etched on her face.

"I - " Cutter stammered, desperate to explain himself. "I - I'll be back in a moment," he finished, wrenching himself away from her.

Faster than he had been able to manage before, he fought himself out of the shrubbery and straightened up. After a quick glance around to make sure the coast was clear, he took off in the general direction of where he was sure he had hid the anomaly detector, silently cursing himself at his stupidity.

* * *

Jenny lay back down on the ground, breathing hard. Squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing her hand over her face, she sighed in frustration. That was what she had wanted - indeed, she had been fighting the urge to kiss him herself for hours. Then why had she pulled away? Why couldn't she have just given herself that one minute of happiness? She knew what it was - it was the thought of Mark back at home. It was her wedding day, for goodness sake! And she was in a bush like some horny teenager, necking with one of her colleagues! Whilst Mark was probably worried sick about her back in the twenty-first century. But the thing was, she couldn't seem to help herself. It had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed to push him away, and she wasn't a fool as to why. She had feelings for him. Feelings that ran deeper than she'd care to examine. She had known something was amiss when she had woken up from that dream, but at the time, she had just assumed that she fancied him. He was very easy on the eyes after all, with those piercing blue eyes that made her feel like she was being examined inside out, and his sandy blonde hair that was constantly untidy. But now she was certain that there was defiantly more in it than that. But what? She cared about him a lot, she knew that, and she found him attractive. Whenever he put himself in danger, her heart seemed to jump up to her throat. Did that all add up to love?

But this couldn't happen. It couldn't because she was getting married. Well, she was supposed to be anyway. And Cutter himself was married, on paper at least. It was just a silly fantasy that she needed to squash before it took over her. She was sure that the kiss hadn't meant as much to him as it had to her anyway. He probably just did it as a way of reassuring her, as he could tell she was scared of being left alone.

Groaning in annoyance, she slammed her hands down on the hard dusty ground. That anomaly better open up soon, otherwise her strained self control would be sure to break. Her thoughts were brought to a crashing halt by the sound of voices in the distance. Her heart pounding, she closed her eyes, feeling her blood run cold with fear as the heavy footsteps drew closer.

That certainly wasn't Cutter.

* * *

**A bit of a longer chapter because I don't think I'll be able to update for a few days (damn work!) Hope this makes up for it anyway :D x **


	16. The big mistake

**Again, I'm so sorry that I can't update as much as usual, but I'm so busy with bloody work. It's ironic that I now have less spare time in my summer hols than I do when I'm in uni **

**:( anyway, here's the next chapter! Hope you like, but be warned, it has quite strong violence in it, so please don't read if stuff like that bothers you x**

Chapter 16

Jenny could sense that people, two or three at least, were standing a mere few feet away from the bush she was hiding under. Her breathing became shallow and much louder than she wanted, but it seemed she was unable to exert any sort of control over her respiratory system. She kept her eyes shut firmly, like a child who thought 'if I can't see you, you can't see me', although she knew that wouldn't work. It was only a matter of time. She strained her ears to listen to their conversation, biting her lip to try and stem her heavy breathing.

"Perhaps we should split up my Lord?" one of the voices suggested.

"He might be armed," another deeper voice chimed in.

"All the same," the first voice said. "We can't very well return and tell the King we have allowed rebels to roam free on his lands. And if we cover more ground, we are sure to find them."

There was silence for a moment, as though they were contemplating.

"Very well," the deep voice spoke eventually. "Sheldon, you go that way with Norfolk," he paused, obviously indicating a certain direction. "And I shall cover the west."

The footsteps gradually faded into the distance, and Jenny let out a small sigh of relief as her heart seemed to start back up again. But, almost instantaneously, she felt another bolt of fear when she realised that they might have gone off in Cutter's direction. Damn it! She had to find him . . . she had to warn him. Before she had even become aware that she had made up her mind, she shuffled downwards, ignoring the sharp shards of rock cutting into her back, and she crept out as quietly as she could from their hiding place. After a quick look around, she found herself alone, although her senses told her that getting to her feet would be a mistake; just because she couldn't see anyone didn't mean that they weren't there. Instead, she crawled on all fours through the undergrowth in the direction they had came from, hoping beyond hope that she wasn't following the route of the soldiers.

Out of nowhere it seemed, Jenny felt a great pain from the top of her head and cried out as she found herself being dragged backwards through the greenery, until with a horrible jolt, she was staring up into a wide, livid face of a soldier who was holding onto her hair tightly, and bending her neck back as far as it would go.

"Well, well, well," he said slowly, his voice a mixture of shock and amusement. "What have we here?"

Jenny struggled fruitlessly against his grip, but he only tightened it and shook her by the head violently.

"No where to run, girl," the soldier breathed in her ear. "Go and fetch Brandon," he barked at someone she could not see, and she immediately heard shuffling through the trees.

Jenny squeezed her watering eyes shut against the pain, desperately trying to control the overwhelming urge panic that enveloped her. She needed to keep her head, or she'd be no use.

Not long afterwards, more soldiers could be heard crashing their way back through the shrubbery towards them.

"That's her," a deep voice said abruptly. "She was the woman with him. Hold her."

The soldier who had hold of her hair released her head and restrained her arms tightly behind her back in a vice grip. She now had a clear view of her surroundings and noted that, apart the officer holding her, there were two other men, observing her coldly. The one directly in front of her that she recognised from earlier leaned down so that his face was inches away from hers.

"Now what's a beautiful woman such as yourself doing wandering around His Majesties grounds unescorted?" he breathed, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Jenny replied with the dirtiest look she could muster, unable to think of anything to say.

"Where is the gentleman you were traveling with?" he asked, seemingly unperplexed by her silence.

She looked up at him, trying to keep her face impassive. "There was no other," she replied quietly.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Wrong answer."

He gestured to the soldier to his right, and after a slight pause, the man stepped forwards and punched her across the face so that her head flew to the side. Pain erupted from her jaw, and an overwhelming wave of nausea surged through her.

"I'll ask you again," the man continued in a forced-sweet voice. "Where is the man you kept company with? Why are you here? Do you mean to threaten His Majesties life?"

Fighting the urge to vomit, she forced herself to lift her head again and stare back into those cold eyes.

"Piss off," she said clearly, more boldly than she felt.

The soldier laughed and straightened up and turning his back to her. "Your loyalty does you credit, Madam, but it will not save you. The only thing that will is a full confession. I want names, and I want a full explanation as to what it is you're doing here."

"Oh, and if I tell you everything, you're just going to let me skip off merrily?" she laughed coldly, not quite knowing were this brazenness was coming from.

He turned to face her again, looking slightly surprised at her words, but maintaining his composure. Again, he tried the intimidation tactic and crouched down in front of her in an unnervingly close proximity.

"Last chance," he spoke quietly. "Or we will make you speak using other means."

"Go to hell," Jenny snarled with as much venom in her voice as she could manage.

He gave her a wide, complacent smile and stood up sharply, making her start, holding out his out to the soldier next to him.

"Your Horse whip, Sheldon," he commanded, his eyes never leaving Jenny's face.

A bolt of fear shot through her at his words. She was unable to comprehend that they would go so far as to beat her to extract information from her until, with a pang, she remembered that she was no longer in the twenty-first century; she was no longer protected by their laws.

"My Lord," the soldier stuttered. "I - I don't think - "

"It's not within your position to think Sheldon! Now hand we your whip!"

"But, my Lord Brandon, we are obliged to take her back and hold her under formal caution," another soldier interjected, sounding confused. "We don't have the authority to - "

"Would you like to be the man to go back and explain to King Henry that we have left a rebel loose on his grounds?" Brandon shouted, losing his temper. "If she talks here, we can capture the man before the King is made aware of the situation."

After a pause, the soldier, reluctantly it seemed, handed over the whip. Jenny's breathing quickened alarmingly, her chest heaving and terror pounding through her body as she looked at the whip, knowing how much a strike of it was going to hurt. Brandon rounded her slowly, the whip pulled taught in his hands, and the soldier behind her pulled her arm to the side and the third soldier held the other, tugging her down fully onto her knees. She struggled fiercly, knowing it was pointless; the men were too strong for her. However, she refused to beg - she'd rather be beaten to within an inch of her life first.

_Just don't make a noise, no matter how much it hurts, _she thought to herself wildly. _Don't scream or Cutter will try and save you, and end up dead himself._

She heard the whip crack like a bullet through the still air as though in slow motion, and it sliced into her back. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that she momentarily forgot where she was. All she knew was that she was screaming louder than she'd ever screamed in her life. As the agony subsided slightly, she realised that she was shaking uncontrollably, and she was unable to draw a breath through the sobs. From a great distance, it seemed, she heard one of the soldiers speak.

" . . . she's only a woman, my Lord . . . she cannot take torture as a male body can. . ."

"But as a woman, her spirit is weaker, and so she is more likely to speak," the deeper voice of Brandon snapped.

Through her haze, she was dimly aware that he had crouched down in front of her again, and he grabbed her chin to pull her face up.

"I hope that loosened your tongue, my Lady," he said in a soft voice. "Because more of that will follow if you continue to hold your silence."

Gathering what little energy she still had left, she took a deep breath and spat at him full in the face. He jerked away from her, looking disgusted.

"Again then," he said coldly, standing up straight and positioning the whip. "And perhaps this time, we should instead see the damage we can do to that pretty face."

He raised the whip, making to strike her from the front. She contorted her face, ready for it, but a second before the whip touched her, an arm came out of nowhere and took the brunt of the blow, pulling the weapon away from her. After a few seconds of shock, she realised with a flooding relief that it was Cutter. He had pulled the whip around Brandon's neck and was tightening it, causing the man to splutter and clutch his throat in vain. The soldiers that held Jenny seemed to freeze, unsure of what to do now that their commander was down, and they watched as Brandon collapsed to the floor. In a flash, Cutter pulled a gun out from his pocket and pointed it at the remaining soldiers.

"Let her go," he commanded, breathing hard.

At once, Jenny felt their grip on her arm release, and she staggered up with a whimper, falling into Cutter, who grabbed her in a one armed embrace, still holding the gun up at men. He must have felt the warmness of the blood on her back, as he glanced at the hand that held her, his face turning red with anger.

"You disgust me," he spat at the soldiers, and Jenny could feel him shaking with fury.

She saw him load the gun and poise it, ready to shoot, but despite the fact that she wanted them punished, she knew that killing them wasn't the answer.

"Stop," she said to Cutter in a cracked voice, but with as much authority she could muster. "Don't, just don't. It might change something."

She looked up at Cutter, who was clearly baffled at her request, but reluctantly it seemed, he didn't fire, still keeping the gun pointed at their heads.

"If I were you," he spoke in a dangerous whisper to the soldiers, "I would start running. Now."

With a fleeting glance at each other, the soldiers turned their heels and sprinted away through the trees at lightening speed, leaving them alone with the unconscious Brandon.

As the shock was abating, Jenny began sobbing, her back throbbing painfully, and her hands trembling. Cutter held her head gently against his chest for a few moments, still keeping his gun up, although his full attention seemed rapt on her and her alone; his fingers stroked her hair and he kissed her on the forehead, his breathing still thready.

"You're alright," he breathed, his lips still against her forehead. "You're alright."

She refused to look up at him, not wanting him to see her crying, even though she knew it was obvious that she was. He seemed to understand that she just needed some time to compose herself, and he didn't force her to speak, but only held her closer, their breathing synchronized.

"We should move as soon as you able to," he spoke eventually in a numb voice. "We need to get as far away from these grounds as possible, and I need to see to your back."

"But the anomaly - "

"Jenny, if we stay here, we're going to be killed," he said firmly, still holding her close to him. "And there's not going to be much else I can do if they come back with more men."

She shut her eyes and buried her head deeper in his shirt, still trying to keep her head clear.

"But what about going home?" she said quietly, her voice muffled in his chest.

"My main concern is getting you seen to," he answered in that same soothing tone. "And then we'll start thinking about the anomaly. I've got the anomaly detector anyway," he added, gesturing down at the bag around his sholder. "Do you think you can walk?"

She nodded, her eyes still shut, knowing that as soon as she moved the pain would redouble.

* * *

Cutter led her through the trees in a direction that looked intentional, causing her to assume that he knew the general direction of the exit, although how she had no idea, and quite frankly, she didn't care. Her back was in agony, and walking only seemed to make it worse. She knew that she was unsteady on her feet, and she was grateful when she felt Cutter put his arm around her lower back to steady her. Every few seconds it seemed, he would ask her if she was okay, to which she always lied answered yes; however, after about the millionth time of him enquiring, she lost her temper.

"Cutter, if you ask me that one more time, I swear I'm going to scream!" she snapped, wincing as a particular sharp pain shot through her shoulder blades - the area felt hot and sticky, leading her to believe that it was still bleeding.

"Sorry," he mumbled, making her feel a tad guilty; he was only concerned for her welfare after all.

They carried on moving, all the while Jenny could feel herself feeling more and more light-headed with what she assumed was blood loss. She tried her best to keep going, but when a particularly nasty spell of dizziness struck, she felt her knees buckle from under her; Cutter's arm tightened around her, stopping her from hitting the floor.

"Jenny?" he said in a strained voice, one hand slapping her face lightly.

"M' alright," she insisted faintly, still feeling incredibly spaced out as she tried to straighten up.

"Right, that's it! I'm looking at your back now," he said in a voice that clearly conveyed that there was to be no negotiation about it.

She didn't argue when he put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, and nor did she say anything when she felt his fingers fumbling at the lace at the back of her dress. A blast of cool air on her shoulder blades told her that he had exposed her wound.

"Jesus," she heard him murmur under his breath.

"What?" she asked, her teeth gritted against the pain. "Is it bad?"

"No," he answered in a worried tone that clearly told her he was lying. "But it needs dressing. Have you got any material you can spare from underneath of your dress?"

"Yes," she replied, fumbling at her underskirt with shaking hands. After a while, it became clear that she couldn't summon the strength to rip it however, and he walked around to face her.

"Sit down," he commanded softly, and when she did, he crouched down himself and batted her hands away from her dress.

Brazenly, he pulled the material up her leg and pulled down the white underdress. In usual circumstances, this act would have made her blush heavily, but the pain in her back was so intense that she probably wouldn't have cared if he pulled her dress off entirely. With one clean sweep, he ripped a strip of white material off, and a second later, he had busied himself with dressing her cut.

When he seemed satisfied that it was dressed appropriately, he laced up her dress loosely and got to his feet, gently pulling her up also.

"You've lost a lot of blood," he informed her quietly, not meeting her in the eye. "So we're going to have to take it easy, okay?"

Jenny wasn't listening, however, as her eyes had been drawn to a thick ring of blood around Cutter's wrist on the shirt he was wearing, contrasted greatly against the white material.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to his wrist.

"It's just a cut - it's nothing - it's - " he stammered, trying to put his arm behind his back.

Unconvinced, Jenny grabbed his forearm and pulled it level with her eye, gently pushing back his sleeve. There was a deep cut that snaked around his wrist from were he had caught the whip before it had hit her. It was bleeding freely, and with a sickening lurch of her stomach, she looked up at him; she hadn't known that he had been that hurt, and the fact that he hadn't even mentioned it made her feel selfish for not asking him if he was okay. She took a deep breath to steady her voice.

"Well Cutter, if you don't stop saving me soon, I might be forced to re-think my opinion of you," she joked in a humourless voice. "Or, God forbid, I might even start to like you."

He smiled warmly, and pulled his arm out of her grip. "Well, I'd better stop then, hadn't I?" he chuckled.

"Let me dress it - " she asked, but he cut her off.

"No, we've wasted enough time. I'll see to it when we get out of here."

"But - "

"Come on," he interrupted, putting his uninjured arm around her waist. "It can't be far, we've been walking for hours."

* * *

**Tudor times were brutal!**

**Let me know your thoughts! I still have no idea were this story is going :S x**


	17. The escape route

**I think I'm going to have to accept the fact that I'll only be able to do weekly updates for a while :( but I'll try and make the chapters as long as possible x **

Chapter 17

Cutter feet were aching dully, the pain increasing with each step he took into the uneven undergrowth. He glanced around at Jenny, observing that she wasn't in much better shape than he was; she looked incredibly tired and still shaken from before. She put on a brave face of course, and didn't complain, but he knew that she must have been in agony. His wrist was still stinging, but it must have been worse for her - the whip had cut right through her dress and skin, and despite the fact it had stopped bleeding, it still looked bad. He desperately wished he would have been able to kill the bastard's that done it, or at least hurt them as much as they had hurt her, but the rational part of him reasoned that Jenny had been completely right to stop him; they couldn't change anything if they could help it, or else risk altering the course of history.

They walked in a stiff silence, whether enforced by tiredness or by the general awkwardness of their last goodbye, Cutter was unsure. The memory of it was enough to make his face burn; the way she had kissed him back eagerly, and then abruptly pushed him away, as though she suddenly remembered herself. Why she hadn't stopped the kiss earlier was beyond him; it felt to good to be true to think that she was enjoying it. No . . . it was more likely that she was startled when his lips crashed onto hers, and it had taken a few moments for her to recover herself. He was grateful, at least, that she hadn't brought it up since; it was embarrassing enough that he had crossed the professional line without her taunting him about it. However, it did strike him as unusual that she wasn't teasing him - it was very un-Jenny like.

He glanced around at her again, and felt a pang of worry as he noticed that the colour had drained from her face, making her look drawn and ill. He didn't want to stop walking as it was becoming imperative for them to find the exit before the were discovered, but looking at her now, it was clear that they had to rest for a while, or else risk her collapsing.

"Jenny?" he said, holding out a hand to halt her. "Maybe we should stop for a while?"

"No, I'm alright," she murmured, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. "We need to keep looking - "

"You need to get some rest," he interrupted sharply. "And so do I," he added, knowing that unless he admitted it was what he wanted as well, she wouldn't agree to it.

"But - " she said, meaning to argue back, but he stopped her by plonking down on the ground and leaning against the bark of the nearest tree.

"If you want to keep going, then you can do it without me, because I'm exhausted," he said, yawned purposefully.

She glared at him for a few moments, obviously torn between her own weariness and her desire to keep her dignity. Eventually, the former seemed to win out, and she sank to the ground next to him, and gritting her teeth in pain as she lent her injured back against the tree. It was clear that the bark was hurting her wound.

"Come here," he said gently, opening his arm.

"What?"

"Come here," he repeated more forcefully.

Reluctantly, it seemed, she lent her head on his chest.

"You know, this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I pictured my wedding night," she sighed, her voice laced with cold amusement.

"What? You didn't imagine sleeping at the base of a tree with me in the sixteenth century?" he joked, although his thoughts unwillingly drifted to what she might have actually been doing at this moment, had her wedding not been interrupted. Batting away the knot of jealousy that flared up in his chest, he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Surprisingly not," she answered bluntly, although there was a tone of humour in her voice.

They stayed silent for a while, the weight of her pressed against him becoming as much of a issue for him as it had been under that bloody bush. The smell of her hair was creeping into his nostrils, clouding his senses, and he had suddenly become hyper-aware of her chest rising and falling against his. After a while, her breathing became steady and rhythmic, and Cutter had assumed she had fallen asleep. However, a few moments later, she spoke in a small, scared voice.

"Nick," she whispered, making his head jerk up. "How are we going to get back? How are we going to find the anomaly once we get out of these grounds?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. He heard her sigh against him, and felt the need to reassure her. "But don't worry," he added, squeezing her shoulder in what was meant to be a gesture of comfort. "We'll get back somehow. I promise we'll find a way."

"And by that time, Mark will probably be shacking up with some pretty blonde," she laughed humourlessly.

"Don't talk like that," Cutter said firmly, although by the way Mark had behaved with that stripper, he couldn't help but feel that her concerns were justified.

"Why not? It's true," she stated in a cold voice that he was pretty certain wasn't directed at him.

"I'm sure you're not so easily forgettable," he murmured, being carful not to say too much.

"Thanks . . . I think," she said softly, shifting slightly.

"Sorry."

"For what? You tried to help me, and I repaid you by trapping you here with me in this hell hole. It's me who should be apologising to you."

"Well - don't let me stop you," he smirked.

She chuckled slightly, and buried her head deeper into his chest.

* * *

The last thing Jenny remembered, she was drifting off to sleep, Cutter's earthy scent becoming somewhat of a comfort to her. The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake violently.

"What - ?" she began sleepily, but a hand clamped around her mouth.

"Ssssh!" Cutter's voice hissed down her ear.

She listened, and felt a wave of panic wash over her as the sound of crashing leaves in the distance reached her ears. She jerked her head up to look at Cutter, and saw the same terror mirrored in his face.

"_It's them!" _he whispered, pushing her off him and setting her on her feet.

After a pause in which his eyes scanned their surroundings wildly, he locked his hands together, indicating that he was to give her a leg up to climb the tree they had been sleeping under. Without argument, she allowed him to assist her in climbing, which was difficult with a long, thick dress and heels on. More than once, she felt herself slipping, but she used all the strength she possessed to pull herself further up into the relative safety of the leaves. Once she reached a small concave shaped ledge where most of the thick branches conjoined, she turned and sat down carefully, watching as Cutter scrambled up after her. He lowered himself into a crouch next to her, his eyes searching the gaps in the leaves for any sign of movement.

"Do you think they heard us?" she breathed, desperately trying to control the panic she felt.

Cutter shook his head, clearly still straining to hear the footsteps and voices that were drawing nearer and nearer. Trying to distract herself from her hammering heart, Jenny gazed absently in the other direction, and double took - with a jolt, she saw a sliver of what appeared to be a stone wall through the leaves. She smacked Cutter on the arm and nodded over to it.

"That's the way out," she whispered.

He glanced around, biting his lower lip, obviously thinking hard. "Maybe we could, you know . . ." he began eventually, nodding over to it.

"What? Make a run for it?" she asked in disbelief.

"Well, yes - "

She shook her head immediately. "It's too risky. They'll see us! And that wall looks way too high to climb."

"What else do you suggest? They're going to find us up here sooner or later!"

"Well you're just going to think of something else then aren't you? Something that's not a bloody suicide mission!"

"Why are you picking on me?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Because I'm scared, and we're outnumbered!" she snapped.

"Right," he said bossily, ignoring her protests. "We're going to have to jump down and run like hell. You ready?"

"No - "

"You're ready."

"No - "

"You've got to be ready," he snapped. "One . . . two . . . don't hold my shirt . . . one . . . two . . . three - "

He jumped and hit the ground in a clumsy crouch. Straightening up quickly, he turned and held out his arms to help her safely to the floor. Without pausing to see if they had been heard, he grabbed her hand, his fingers crushing around hers, pulling her towards the wall; their only chance. Jenny could hear shouts from a great distance behind them, but she didn't dare look round, too scared to know how close the soldiers were or if they had noticed them. As they tore through the leaves, she felt a stitch prick her side, and drawing a breath had become painful, yet she kept running.

Eventually, they reached the wall, and with a numb realisation, they both looked up in unison; it was much too high for them to climb. Oh god, this was it - they were caught! However, Cutter seemingly wasn't giving up, and a second later, she felt him pulling her towards another tree, considerably taller than the last one.

"Up - get up!" he hissed, pushing her towards the bark.

Climbing this tree was much harder than the previous, either because of the crushing pressure of soldiers bearing down on them, or because of the exhaustion the sprinting had caused them. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she pushed still further on. She made to stop once she thought she was a reasonable way up, but Cutter pushed her again.

"Keep going!" he shouted from behind her.

"There's no-where else to go!" she snapped, panicking.

"Across the branch on your left! The one leaning over the wall! Jump!"

"WHAT?"

"Just do it!"

She scrambled across the thin branch that creaked alarmingly under her weight. She peered over the wall, knowing how much a drop like that was going to hurt. But she had no choice; it was the only way out. She took a deep breath, bracing herself, and jumped. In what seemed like slow motion, she pulled her knees against her chest, waiting for the impact, trying not to fall at an awkward angle. She landed uninjured, although painfully and ungracefully, and scrambled to her feet as quickly as possible as she felt Cutter thud to the floor next to her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice quivering with the combination of shock and tiredness.

"Yeah," he winced as he straightened up. "Come on," he added, reaching for her hand, entwining his fingers in hers. "They're going to keep following."

Still struggling to draw a sufficient breath, Jenny allowed him to drag her into more greenery. They were only going for about half an hour when Cutter stopped suddenly clutching his side, and breathing hard.

"I can't go any further," he gasped as he lay down on his back in between two bushes, squeezing his eyes shut. "And when we get back, I'm joining a gym."

Smiling reluctantly, Jenny lay down next to him, letting a groan of relief escape her lips as she rested her head on the cool damp grass, the moistness soothing her painful back.

"You know - " she panted, her chest heaving. " - before I'd met you, I'd never in my life hid in a bush like some naughty school kid. But now it's all I ever seem to do."

She glanced around at him, and saw a ghost of a smile flicker across his lips, although his eyes were still shut. "Well, before I met you, I'd never ran away from a group of armed guards before."

"Really? That was a typical Friday night when I was in University," she joked in a lame attempt to squash the overwhelming panic that had been threatening to engulf her since that bloody anomaly had closed.

"Now why doesn't that surprise me," he grinned, his hand reaching out and finding hers, clumsily patting it.

Her thoughts were suddenly transported back to under that bush, and the feeling of his lips moving against hers, and unexpectedly, unwantedly, she felt a throbbing desire for him to kiss her again. She looked around at him again, wondering what the hell it was about him that made her feel this way. She knew so many supremely charming, handsome young men in her life that she could easily have had if she'd been so inclined, but not one of them had ever attracted her so much so that she'd consider cheating on Mark. Yet this eccentric, middle-aged maverick did.

_Why?_

"We're going to be fine," Cutter's voice said out of the blue.

"I know," she replied, finally catching her breath. "We've been through worse, I suppose. And you've been able to shout at me a lot today, so you must be happy. You love shouting at me."

"I do _not_ love shouting at you," he retorted, his eyes still closed.

"Yes, you do," she sighed in a mocking voice. "It makes your day."

"Well, if you'd listen to me once in a while then I wouldn't have to shout at you, would I?" he snapped, although the corners of his mouth twitched up in a repressed smile.

"And deprive you of the chance to have a go at me? I wouldn't do that to you."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're annoying?"

"Do you always kiss the women that you find annoying then?" she asked, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

She felt Cutter freeze next to her, his eyes snapping open, and his expression stony. Cursing inwardly, Jenny squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away from him, feeling herself flush. A terrible, all-consuming silence followed, crushing in on her. In an attempt to change the subject, she cleared her throat.

"Erm," she began, her voice rather too high-pitched for her liking. "I'm - I'm really thirsty."

"Yeah, me too," Cutter agreed in a relieved voice, sitting up sharply. "We haven't had a drink all day have we?"

"Unless you've been sneaking a swig from a hipflask when I've not been looking," Jenny answered sarcastically, relaxing her head and gazing at the leaf canopy above them.

"Well, the town centre can't be far," he said slowly, as though considering his words before he spoke them. "We could get something to drink there."

"I though you said 'minimal interaction with people'?"

"Well, needs must. We can't very well die of dehydration can we? And if we can loose ourselves in the crowds, we can throw the guards off."

"I suppose . . ." she said uncertainly; the though of wandering around the Tudor times and trying to blend was not exactly an appealing notion.

However, despite her reservations, she accepted his hand that he had offered and let him drag her to her feet. But, as Sod's law would have it, a few moments after they had started walking again, large drops of rain began to fall heavily from the black sky, feeling like ice on their skin. Within seconds, it seemed, they were both soaked through and shivering.

"God!" Jenny scowled, pushing her dripping wet hair out of her face. "No matter how many centuries separate it, you can tell by the weather that this is still bloody London!"


	18. Room at the inn

Chapter 18

Cutter had read about Tudor London many times, not to mention the amount of dreary documentaries and over-dramatised programmes he had watched on the subject, but nothing - _nothing_ whatsoever - could have prepared him for the reality of it. The streets were narrow, dirty, and the _smell. _A rancid, overpowering odor hung permanently in the air, making him feel physically sick, and by the way Jenny had clamped her hand over her mouth and nose, he guessed the feeling was mutual. The darkness was slowly fading into a drizzly dawn, allowing them to study the creaking buildings they passed. Most of them were made of wood, it seemed, and a lot had clumsily thatched roofs. Stalls and shops were mixed in with what appeared to be living quarters, and despite the fact they only passed a few people (whom they avoided), it was clear that in the bustle of daytime, everywhere would feel cramped and suffocating.

They were both tired, hungry, and oh so tired, and so the first inn that they came across, they stopped at. It was one of the largest buildings in the vicinity in breadth, and certainly the tallest; it towered over most, with several floors that jutted out in a manner that looked both unsafe and unappealing. It had a few steep steps at the front, leading up to the solid wooden door, which had a sign of what looked like a goblet creaking in the wind above it. At the side of the entrance, there was a lantern with a dying candle inside, flickered in the dissipating darkness.

Letting out an awestruck sigh, Cutter ran his fingers through his still-damp hair and glanced up at the sky.

"It can't be long after five in the morning," he concluded, judging by the sunrise. "Do you thing it'll even be open?"

"Well, we have a much bigger problem than that," she replied, sounding distant as she continued to study their surroundings. He glanced around at her questioningly, so she continued in a slightly aspirated tone, "Money, Cutter. We've got nothing to pay them with."

"I - I didn't even think of that," he stammered, feeling annoyed at himself for being so remiss. "Maybe you could . . . you know . . . work that old PR charm?" he raised his eyebrow suggestively.

She looked around at him, judging by her expression torn between annoyed and amused. "Are you joking? Look at the state of me!" she exclaimed, gesturing down at herself.

He allowed his eyes to study her for a moment; the bodice of her dress was splattered with mud, and the skirt part was still saturated, clinging to her legs. Her make-up was smudged heavily, and her hair had completely fallen out of the previously perfect bun it had been in, and now hung down, dripping wet; the front part plastered to her face. To him, she still looked beautiful of course; indeed, he doubted there was anything she could wear that would make him think otherwise. However, he did see her point - she wasn't ideally dressed for seduction.

"Well have you got any bright ideas then?" he conceded.

She paused for a moment, biting her lip and surveying the inn with a pained expression. Then, without a word, she reached up to the back of her neck and undid the silver necklace she had been wearing. With a sad consigned look in her eye, she handed it to him.

"It's got a cluster of diamonds on it. We can use that for payment."

"Jenny . . ." he said in surprise, examining the necklace and turning it over in his fingers delicately. " . . . are - are you sure? It looks very expensive - "

"That's because it _is_ very expensive," she sighed. "But I've been awake now for nearly twenty-four hours, and I'm rapidly approaching the point were I would happily give a kidney in exchange for a decent bed."

He chuckled slightly, although he had to agree that it did seem worth it at this point.

"Right then," he breathed, closing his hand around the necklace. "Lets give it a go."

"Try and stay behind me," she added, and when he gave her a quizzical look, she explained, "I doubt they'd be very receptive to the idea of having a whipped criminal staying. You need to try and hide my back."

He nodded in understanding, and gestured for her to go first. They pushed open the door with trepidation and walked inside, studying the place as they went. Like the outside, most of the internal structure seemed to be built with wood. There was a rickety staircase that led up to the higher floors to their left, and many beams that dipped low from the ceiling. Black candle brackets lined the walls, some of them holding withering candles that illuminated the dark room slightly. Over in the far corner, a man was reclining back in a chair with his feet resting on a large table in front of him. He was clearly asleep, breathing hard and steadily into a hat that was propped on his face. Cautiously, they approached him, although when he failed to wake, Jenny cleared her throat loudly. The man jolted up abruptly, hurriedly getting to his feet and adjusting his hat.

"May I help you?" he asked groggily, speaking directly to Cutter.

"Um - yes," Cutter stammered, his mind going blank with nerves. "We would like a room please."

"For how long?" the man queried.

"Um," Cutter said again, looking at Jenny for assistance.

"For the foreseeable future," Jenny interjected with a sweet smile.

The man paused for a moment, as though considering it. Eventually he said, "We require payment up front."

"Of course," Jenny simpered, looking around at Cutter expectantly.

He handed over the necklace, which the man took with a curious look, examining it with his eyes squinted.

"The payment is fair," he spoke eventually in a neutral tone, although Cutter was sure there was a pang of excitement in his voice. "It'll suffice for a month."

Cutter was about to open his mouth and agree, but Jenny cut him off with a cold, patronising laugh.

"Thank you for your time, sir," she said icily, taking the necklace out of his hand and half-turning as if to leave.

"Hold a moment!" the man burst out, a definite hint of desperation in his voice.

Jenny turned back and looked at him with polite interest.

"I could, perhaps, stretch it to two months?" he suggested quietly, but as Jenny turned again, he raised his voice and added, "And complimentary food for the entirety of your stay?"

"Wonderful," Jenny beamed, handing the necklace back to his outstretched hand. "After you then sir?"

The man looked puzzled for a second, perhaps because he had never been spoken to in that manner by a woman before. However, the gleaming jewelry in his tightly clasped hand seemed to sooth him enough that he didn't question it, and without a word, he led them up the creaking staircase. On the second floor, he stopped outside a specific door and opened it, stepping back and allowing them to enter before him. The room was small, although more pleasant than Cutter had been expecting considering those horrific documentaries he had watched. It was as wooden as the rest of the place, and had one tiny window opposite that looked out onto the courtyard in the back. There was a battered-looking stool and table in the far corner, and in the middle of the room was a bed that, size-wise, looked somewhere in between a single and a double.

"I hope you and your wife have a pleasant stay," the man bowed his head to Cutter, backing out of the room.

"Oh no, I'm not his - " Jenny began, but Cutter hurriedly cut her off.

"Thank you sir, I'm sure we won't be disappointed," he nodded stiffly.

With a curt nod, the man left, closing the door shut after him.

"You never cease to amaze me," Cutter said to Jenny, unable to hide how impressed he was that she managed to negotiate what he considered to be a sweet deal.

"And I never will," she smiled back in a triumphant manner, tucking her hair behind her ears. "But . . . why didn't you correct him? About the wife thing?" she questioned, folding her arms.

"Because if he didn't think you were my wife, then he would have assumed you were a prostitute," he pointed out, suppressing a smile. "And, funnily enough, I didn't think you'd care for that."

"You could have said I was your sister or something?" she suggested, causing him to shudder at the thought and shoot her a disgusted look. "Perhaps not," she added with a smile, turning away to admire the room further.

* * *

A short while later, the sun had risen a little more, and the sound of people could be heard from outside beginning their day. Cutter had gone off in search of something to drink, leaving Jenny to her thoughts. Surprisingly, despite everything that had happened, and despite the fact that her back still stung enough to make her eyes water, she felt calm. Perhaps it was because they now had a place to stay for a while, but for the first time since the anomaly had closed, she felt that everything was going to be okay. Here, they could game plan and try and come up with a way of getting home without being disturbed. However, as this thought crossed her mind, another image of what they else the could do in here without being disturbed popped up in her brain, completely unbidden. As soon as she thought it, she hurriedly pushed it away. They had more important things to worry about, and if she didn't snap out of this ridiculous crush soon, living in a minuscule room with Cutter for any length of time would be unbearable.

She turned her attention to the bed in front of her, again her thoughts drifting as she wondered if they'd be sharing it in a few moments. The idea of it made her blush heavily, and with a sigh she sunk down in the chair, burying her head in her hands.

_Stop it you idiotic girl! _she chided herself firmly. _Stop it right now before you make an complete fool of yourself!_

When the door opened again, she snapped her head up and smiled weakly as Cutter entered, carrying two pewter cups brimming with liquid.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the drink he offered her and taking a rather large gulp. Immediately, she gagged and spat it out, coughing and spluttering - it was the most disgusting thing she had ever tasted in her life. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her voice raspy. "What the hell is that?"

"It's called light beer," Cutter informed her, taking a sip of his own drink without so much as a reaction.

"Wasn't there any water?"

"Aye, but it's not drinkable," he pointed out. "No one drank water in the sixteenth century because it was full of bacteria. Unsurprisingly, they didn't have a water treatment system."

"So this is all we've got to drink?" she gasped, still fighting the urge to gag again.

"F'raid so," he sighed, although he looked amused by her reaction. "Just hold your nose and gulp it all back at once."

"I think I'd rather die of dehydration thanks," she snapped, but after he raised an eyebrow at her, she sighed helplessly and, after a slight hesitation, she threw the rest of her drink back in one go.

Shuddering, she placed the empty cup on the table.

"I can't even begin to think what we might have changed by doing this," Cutter said as he set his cup down also, a definite note of worry in his voice.

"We didn't have a choice," she pointed out in a soothing tone.

They stood awkwardly for a few moments, avoiding each others gaze, both not wanting to bring up the topic of sleeping arrangements first. Eventually, it was Cutter who caved first.

"I'll sleep on the floor," he murmured, his eyes firmly set on anything but her.

"Don't be silly," she sighed, making up her mind on the spot. "You wouldn't be able to get up afterwards."

His eyes flew up to meet hers, widening in surprise.

"Are - are you sure?" he asked, looking as uncomfortable as she felt.

"Yes," she said in a slightly aspirated tone as she pulled back the bedcovers. "I'm going to be asleep in about sixty seconds so it's not like it matters."

She kicked off her shoes and climbed into the lumpy bed, wishing that she could discard her ridiculous dress that was still damp, but knowing that in doing so she would be opening a can of worms that was best staying firmly shut. As soon as her head hit the limp pillow, tiredness overwhelmed her, and she found herself resisting the urge to close her eyes and drop off immediately. Cutter hovered on the other side of the bed, looking unsure, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in his nerves. Eventually, it seemed, his exhaustion overrode his gentlemanly instincts, and he got in also. There was room for the both of them, but it was a very snug fit; his arm and shoulder jammed next to hers, unwillingly making her pulse race. As a way of distracting herself, she turned to him.

"Make sure you keep your hands to yourself," she snapped, rather unreasonably.

"Oh, I'll try," he retorted sarcastically.

With a deep sigh, Jenny faced away from him, turning on her side to partially relieve some of the pain of her back, but mainly to put a bit of space between them. However, she was always aware of him being in unnervingly close proximity to her, and after a while, she found herself wishing that she had indeed made him sleep on the floor.

An age later it seemed, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

**Have a lovely bank holiday everyone :) hope you enjoyed this chapter x**


	19. Getting by

Chapter 19

Jenny felt herself waking slowly, the intense sunlight spilling sporadically into the tiny room through the filth-caked window. She first thing she became aware of was the fact that she was overwhelmingly hot due to all the layers she was wearing. The second thing that struck her was a wave of nausea, which she had a sneaky suspicion the disgusting beer from the previous night was to blame for. With a groan, she turned and was surprised to see that Cutter was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, fiddling with the hand-held anomaly detector absently. He looked up as she stirred.

"Sorry," he said immediately, giving her an apologetic look. "I didn't mean to wake you . . . go back to sleep."

"No, it's okay," she murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed at waking up with him there. "What are you doing?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows and pushing stray hairs out of her face.

"Trying to amplify the signal," he sighed, gesturing down at the detector in his hands. "So that we'll be able to pick up anomalies from further away."

"Is that possible?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I'm no Connor though - I'm not really sure how it works. How's your back?"

"Still stinging," she admitted, wincing as she sat up fully.

He hoisted himself up from the floor. "I've found something that might be able to help . . ." he rummaged in Connor's bag that he had brought with him and, to her complete surprise, pulled out a first aid kit.

"Where did you find that?" she gapped.

"Let's just say we're lucky that Connor's so neurotic," he smiled soothingly as he perched on the bed next to her. "Turn around."

Without question, still feeling groggy, she shuffled herself so that she had her back to him. She heard him unzip the first aid kit, and after a slight pause, she felt him warm fingers undoing the lace of her dress. He made slow work of it, obviously trying not to hurt her, but the intimacy of it was enough to make her burn. Eventually, she felt a draft on her back and the front part of her dress loosened considerably. Sincerely grateful he was behind her instead of in front, she waited silently. Then, without warning, pain shot through her as he sprayed something on her wound. She in took a sharp breath, and fought the urge to curse with difficulty.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Antibacterial spray. It doesn't look infected though so we're lucky."

"You must have a very broad definition of the word 'lucky'," she said through gritted teeth, gripping the bed sheets as she waited for the pain to subside.

He didn't reply as he busied himself dressing it again. More to take her mind off the stinging rather than actually being interested, she continued talking.

"What else did Connor have in the bag?"

"Nothing really useful except for this and the anomaly detector," he answered, sounding distracted. "A mobile, a few comics, a book, his wallet . . . that sort of thing. There, all done," he finished cheerfully, lacing her dress back up loosely. "Feel okay?"

"No," she answered honestly. "But I suppose it's better than nothing." She turned around to face him, ignoring the sudden surge of excitement that flared up in her stomach at his close proximity. "Cutter, what are we going to do?"

The weak smile he had worn vanished, and he stood up abruptly, his gaze elsewhere. "We're going to wait for the anomaly to reopen."

"And if it doesn't? They don't always -"

"We can't think like that," he reasoned in a gentle voice. "We've got to stay positive."

"I'm all for the glass being half full, but we've got to be realistic," she pushed, more because she wanted him to quash her fears than because she actually wanted him to agree with her. "If it doesn't open soon, then what?"

He sighed, gazing unseeingly out of the window, as though thinking hard. "All's we've got to do is stay alive and keep a low profile until we can get back," he said eventually, his voice sounding more confident than he looked.

She got to her feet herself, growing tired of him not looking at her when he spoke, and walked to stand directly in front of him. "Do you really thing we can just blend in here until then?" she asked skeptically.

Reluctantly it seemed, his eyes traveled down to meet hers, and for a split second, she could see the worry flit across them. "We have to," he said quietly.

She scowled, unreasonably annoyed by his lack of a plan, and turned away from him, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

"Look, it could be worse," he continued in what he clearly though was a soothing voice. She felt him come up behind her and place his hands on her shoulders, calming her instantly. "We could have been stuck in the Permian era like we thought, with desert-like temperatures and dangerous creatures roaming around everywhere. At least here, we've got a roof over our heads, not to mention food and drink. All we have to do is keep our heads down and not attract too much attention." He squeezed her shoulders in a gesture of comfort. "Okay?"

"Okay," she breathed eventually, blinking the unexpected tears away - she hadn't really known how scared she'd been until he had made her feel better.

She waited until her eyes were dry before she turned to face him, and if he had know she was crying, he said nothing about it, which she was grateful for.

"So, what now?" she asked as casually as possible, but despite her efforts, her voice still shook.

His eyes traveled down her, resting on the many rips and stains on the dress. "Well first things first, we need new clothes. We can hardly blend in looking like this. And plus it'll make it harder for any guards to recognise us if they're still looking."

"Okay . . ." Jenny agreed half-heartedly. "But one little problem with that - "

"I know - money," he grimaced, his brow furrowed in thought.

"We could sell something else?" she suggested.

"Yes, but what?"

"What about your watch?"

He snorted, looking down at his wrist. "Yeah, okay . . . should I try and sell my mobile as well, hmm?" he asked, his voice practically sagging with sarcasm. "Or maybe we should just go the whole hog and pawn the anomaly detector - "

"Okay, I get your point!" she snapped, folding her arms defensively. "I take it they didn't have watches here then?"

"Not like this," he laughed, gesturing at his slightly battered but undeniably modern watch. "The rich had fancy clocks and the like, but most poor people still used sundials."

"Alright, alright," she huffed, looking away from him as she thought. What on earth could they exchange for some money here . . .?

Then, with a painful throb, it struck her that she did have something that would be worth a lot. Without a word, she pulled off the wedding ring that Mark had placed on her finger before she had fled from the wedding, holding it up to Cutter.

"No," he shook his head defiantly. "No - no way."

"Look, it's our only option - "

"No," he repeated firmly. "It's your wedding ring, for god's sake!"

"Well it's probably pointless now anyway," she pointed out glumly, pushing it against his chest. "Just take it."

Slowly, he reached up and took it from her fingers, sighing as he looked down at it. "I feel terrible that you've had to sacrifice everything so we can get by here," he said quietly, a definite hint of shame in his voice.

"Don't worry about it."

"When we get back, I'll replace it, I promise," he said gently.

Her eyes flew up to meet his, and she smiled reluctantly at his words. "So, you're going to buy me another wedding ring?" she asked, unable to keep the amusement out of her tone.

He flushed slightly, obviously realising how it sounded. "N - no," he stammered. "I just mean that it'll give you half the money back for it - "

She shook her head. "I don't want you to," she said firmly. "Just make sure you buy me a really pretty dress with some of the money you get from it okay?" she smiled, trying to joke him out of his mood.

It worked slightly, as his mouth twitched in a suppressed smile. "Okay," he agreed with a nod.

* * *

**Sorry it's a hurried chapter, I only had about an hour to spare** **:( **

**Next one up as soon as I can x**


	20. Close quarters

Chapter 20

With a jolt, Cutter woke suddenly, his disturbingly vivid dream forcing him into unwanted consciousness. As was so often the case here, for a split second, he could remember were he was or why on earth he had a warm body next to him. That is until his eyes adjusted to the growing dawn light and he realised that he was in the same place he had been for nearly two weeks - in an inn in the fifteen hundreds with Jenny sleeping soundly next to him. As his senses were returning to him, he was horrified when he became aware that he was pressed up against her back, his arm around her waist and his legs curled up to mirror her own sleeping position. He froze, his heart skipping a beat, not knowing what to do. He didn't want to move incase he woke her, and then she would know he had been cuddling her in his sleep, but it's not like he could stay like this - it was way too intimate. That aside if he wasn't careful, the smell of her hair, the hotness of her skin, and the way his limp hand brushed against her chest as she breathed would be sure to become a problem for him. Making as little noise as possible, he carefully extricated his arm from around her, and slowly turned onto his back so that there were a couple of inches of welcomed separation between them. He paused again, listening to see if he had woke her up.

After a few moments, when he was satisfied that her breathing was still as deep and rhythmic as it had been previously, he sighed and pressed his fingers into his eyes. Why, of all the people it could have been, did he have to get trapped with her? It was like someone was having a great laugh at his expense; as though fate was saying 'you know that woman you're in love with? That woman who makes your heart race whenever she looks at you? That woman who you and you alone know the truth about? Yeah, well you can't have her, but you're going to be trapped with her in a small cramped room for an undetermined stretch of time. Have fun.'

Groaning inwardly, Cutter glanced around at her sleeping form, noticing the way her dark hair splayed out across the pillow, catching the growing sunlight. She looked undeniably beautiful in slumber, testing every ounce of his self-control not to simply put his arms around her again. He wondered what her reaction would be if he were to every act on this thought. Often, at odd moments when they were in a casual conversation, he had been struck with the sudden inspiration to pull her into another kiss and consequences be damned. It would be all to easy to think that she was flirting with him - she laughed at his jokes, she held his gaze for longer than was really necessary, and he was fairly sure that the palpable air of tension between them was not all in his head. But he always stopped himself - she had said 'I do' to another man not so long ago. She had said that she wanted to be someone else's wife. He was a darn fool to think that her feelings had changed so much in such a short space of time. That aside, he remembered the last time he had acted on that wild impulse the first day they were marooned here. She pushed him away. Undeniably, she was still in love with Mark, and even though he couldn't understand it, and no matter how much he wished otherwise, it was a fact. And he wasn't going to embarrass himself further.

He looked away from her, forcing his gaze on the low ceiling above them. They had done their best to blend in here, and in Cutter's opinion, they had done a pretty fine job of it so far. He had sold Jenny's wedding ring, and earned enough money for them to get by for a long while yet - he hoped they wouldn't need it for much longer, but still, it was better to be safe than sorry. They had bought a few sets of clothes for themselves which weren't as grand as the ones they had stolen from the couple in Hampton Court, but were comfortable all the same. Cutter's mostly comprised of loose fitting pants and baggy shirts, and Jenny had picked out a few dresses for herself of simple Tudor style - the skirt part a dull brown or grey colour, and the outside bodice black for the most part, with a different colour across the chest - in her particular three dresses green, pink and white. For sleep wear, what they could gather was that both men and women wore a long, white smock-like thing, which they had purchased with trepidation - they were bound to look ridiculous, and sure enough, Jenny had laughed herself silly when Cutter had first put his on.

For the most part, they spent most of there time in their room on Cutter's suggestion; the less interaction they had with people, the better. He was already terrified that they had undoubtably changed something by their first day antics, and he was very reluctant to do any more damage than was necessary. However, they did ventured down to the 'bar' on some nights; if they stayed in the room alone together twenty-four seven, they would most likely end up killing each other. The ale-house itself wasn't exactly the nicest place in the world - most of the men were drunken buffoons who created fights out of nothing. However, that was not the worse thing about the place; prostitution was rife in this time, and most nights, there were woman of . . . _accommodating_ morals . . . around the place, looking for business, and more often than not, finding it. The first time Jenny had realised this, she had stormed back upstairs, disgusted. Cutter had been rather amused by this, teasing her saying that it was the oldest profession in the world, earning him a dig in the ribs. However, the next night, she had consented to return downstairs, and since then, she had mainly kept her eyes on the table, tutting every now and then, but keeping her distaste to herself for the most part.

The food was probably the worst part of the whole experience. For breakfast they were mostly served rye bread and cheese; only having porridge about once a week. Dinner was usually comprised of a horrid soup made with grain, water and added vegetables, and if they were lucky, there were strips of meat, usually chicken, beef or rabbit. Hardly nutritious, and certainly undesirable dishes. Cutter was expecting Jenny to complain about what could only be described as uneatable food, but surprisingly, she held her tongue, probably because she knew that having disgusting food was better than no food at all, like they were likely to have had in the Permian era.

Thinking about food made Cutter's stomach rumble slightly, reminding him that he was hungry. He reached down to the side of the bed and pulled his watch to eyes - six am; breakfast would probably be being served by now. Quietly, he got up and scrambled into his clothes quickly incase Jenny woke up. However, she didn't stir, so he left the room with the intention of bringing their breakfast, as lame as it was, back to the room for her. It was nearly at the bottom of the stairs when he realised that he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he hadn't even bothered to put his boots on, and since the floor was undesirable to walk on bare foot, he sighed and trudged back up the stairs.

* * *

Jenny had been hovering in between sleeping and waking for a few minutes, but it was only when she heard the door close softly that she awoke fully. Confused for a moment, she glanced around at the empty space next to her, wondering where Cutter had gone, until she realised that he'd probably gone to get food and drink for breakfast. Seizing the opportunity to dress without the embarrassment of having to tell him to face the wall, she hopped out of bed, yawing slightly as she pulled off her nightwear and reached for the dress that was draped over the chair. Fiddling with edge of the skirt part to find the opening, her heart suddenly stopped dead as the door opened abruptly and unexpectedly from behind her. She yelped and turned, clutching the dress as close to herself as possible. Of course, it was Cutter.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, looking mortified as he stumbled backwards and pulled the door shut after himself. "I - I thought you were asleep!" he stammered through the door.

Breathing hard in shock, Jenny waited for her heart to start back up again before replying.

"I thought you were downstairs!" she yelled back, fumbling to pull her dress on.

"I forgot my shoes!"

"You forgot your shoes?" she repeated in disbelief, doing up the lace on her bodice.

He didn't reply, but she could hear the creaking of the floorboards in the hall to tell her he was still out there. When she was sure she was decent, she took a deep calming breath.

"Okay, you can come in now," she said, already cringing inwardly.

He opened the door slowly, the impassiveness of his expression not quite hiding his embarrassment.

"So . . ." she began awkwardly, rubbing her hands together compulsively, thinking it better to tackle the matter head on than just pretending it never happened. "I guess you got an eye full?"

"No," he shook his head immediately, although his tone was not convincing in the slightest.

"Really?" she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow and crossing her arms across her chest.

"It was barely a glance," he insisted. "Didn't even register on my radar . . ."

"Well - good . . . that's that then," she stammered. "I think I'll go and get breakfast," she added, unable to meet his eye as she passed him and made to leave.

"But - " he continued in a stronger voice, stopping her in her tracks. She closed her eyes, knowing exactly what was coming . . .

"I wouldn't have pegged you for someone who had a tattoo?" he continued in a quivering voice as though he was trying to stop himself laughing.

She turned back to him, torn between embarrassment and annoyance. "I thought you said you didn't see anything?" she pointed out, feeling her face grow hot.

He raised his eyebrow but didn't reply, forcing her to answer his question first.

"Fine, Cutter - I have a tattoo," she confessed with a sigh, narrowing her eyes. "I got it when I was eighteen. Can we start acting like grown-ups now?"

"Why didn't I know about it?" he asked with a smirk.

"Because, as you saw, it's not in a place that I generally display to the public," she answered abruptly, knowing that he was purposely trying to wind her up. "Now can we change the subject please?"

"Certainly," he nodded, although he still looked frustratingly amused.

"You know what Cutter?" she snapped, approaching him and raising her chin to meet his. "I hope you did get a good look. Because, believe me, it's the most you're ever going to see."

Whether voluntarily or otherwise, his smile vanished immediately.

_There!_ she thought to herself triumphantly as he glared down at her. _That wiped the smug look off his face . . . _

After a sweet smile, she turned her heel and walked away from him, impatient to put as much distance between them as possible.


	21. At the bar

Chapter 21

If the atmosphere was awkward before the 'naked incident', then it was nothing compared to how it was now. Even though nearly two weeks had passed, the unspoken words between them seemed to have mounded up to dangerously toxic levels, so much so that every night, they went down to the bar just to escape being alone in the room together. Jenny had become very distant with him, and for reasons unknown, snapped at him at every available opportunity, forcing him to match her temper and argue back, usually leading to a full blown fight. Cutter had no idea what he was doing wrong, but he'd be damned if he was going to just sit back and take all the insults and catty comments without defending himself. On one particular night, an extremely ruckus group of men were sitting in the corner opposite them, in the company of a couple of young prostitutes. Now Cutter wasn't the sort of man to be in to any of that stuff, but he was human after all, and a couple of times he felt his gaze slip from Jenny over to one particular woman who was sitting in a very compromising manner. After the third time of this happening, he heard Jenny scowl.

"Hello?" she snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"What?" Cutter said distantly, wrenching his gaze away from the woman to the angry-looking one opposite him.

"Would you like me to leave you two alone for a while?"she asked hotly.

"Wait a minute," he sighed, confused at the sudden verbal attack. "When the hell did the fight start?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why are all men the same? All you think about is sex. It bugs the hell out of me!"

"And why would it bug you if I'm looking at another woman?"

"It doesn't," she said quickly. "It's just that I'm meant to be your wife in public, and it hardly looks realistic if you're ogling another woman."

"Actually, they're are probably married," he said, nodding over to the roaring bunch of men with a grimace. "And what do you mean all I think about is sex? I don't think I've mentioned sex to you once. I reckon it's you who's got it on the brain."

"Me?" she repeated in incredulity.

"Yes, you're the one bringing it up."

"Only because you've got your tongue hanging out."

"It really bothers you this much that I _glanced_ at another woman?"

She laughed coldly. "Don't flatter yourself Cutter. I don't care if you're sleeping with a different woman every night."

"Well, I would find it difficult with you in the bed next to me wouldn't I?"

She scowled and shot him a disgusted look before getting up abruptly.

"Sit down!" he snapped through gritted teeth, losing his temper completely - he was sick of feeling like he had to walk on egg shells. "We need to talk."

She hesitated for a moment, before reluctantly sitting back down, glaring him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded coldly.

"Nothing - " she began defensively.

"You've been a nightmare for weeks now!" he continued. "I thought PMS only lasted a few days?"

"Oh right, I'm a woman, so the only reason I can be upset is because of PMS," she retorted sarcastically. "Don't patronize me!"

"There you go again!" Cutter pointed out flinging his arms in the air triumphantly.

"Nothing's wrong with me," she mumbled. "Maybe if you didn't wind me up so much - "

"Me wind you up?" Cutter exclaimed in incredulity. "Are you kidding me? I can barely breathe without you snapping at me!"

"Maybe I'd be nicer to you if you stopped with your clever little comments," she spat.

"What, and if I'm a good boy you're going to show me your tattoo again?" he sneered unwisely.

She slammed her hands down on the table angrily, unwittingly making him jump, before she stormed off.

"Goodnight sweetheart!" he shouted after her.

She turned and glared at him, before thundering up the stairs. Grumbling to himself, Cutter turned back to the bar, aware that many of the people there were staring at him with bemused expressions. He smiled awkwardly, and downed the rest of his drink, before getting to his feet to fetch another - he had learnt from experience that when Jenny was in this mood that she was best left alone, and he certainly wasn't going to put himself in the position to get his head bitten off again. He'd rather sit down in the bar nursing his drink.

* * *

Jenny was drifting in and out of sleep, unable to fully relax because her subconscious was aware that Cutter wasn't back yet. She was getting a little worried, she had to admit - it was late, and they hadn't spent much time without each other for the past month. However, she was too proud to go down and see if he was alright - that, and she was slightly ashamed of herself. She shouldn't have gone off on him like that. Why should it bother her if he looked at another woman? Woman, she chided herself immediately, not 'another woman'. That phrase would imply that she was his woman, and she most certainly wasn't. So it shouldn't have bothered her.

But it did. And she couldn't help it.

At some point, she must have fell into a light sleep. But all she knew was that a bang made her wake with a start as suddenly as if someone had yelled in her ear. Confused, she sat bolt upright, the darkness so all consuming that she couldn't even see her hands in front of her. The creaking of the floorboards could still be heard from outside, making her feel a prickle of terror run through her. Slowly, she got up and cautiously crept towards the door, closing her eyes and praying that it was all in her head. After a deep breath, she opened the door. The dim illumination from the candles in the hall allowed her to see the culprit. Cutter was lounging against the wooden panels around the door, a pleasant clumsy grin on his face.

"Cutter?" she said, completely bemused.

"Jenny!" he shouted happily, sliding down the door frame.

"Are - are you drunk?" she demanded in disbelief as she held the door half open.

"Well . . ." he slurred, holding his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart. "Maybe a little . . ."

She tutted heavily, feeling torn between annoyance and slight amusement. "Get in," she ordered sternly, pulling his arm.

He tumbled into her, causing her to stagger back several feet.

"You look so beautiful . . ." he stammered, his hands around her waist.

"God, is there any drink left downstairs?" she asked sarcastically as she levered him over to the bed.

They fell in a heap, Cutter laughing in a good-humoured manner.

"You are unbelievable," she grumbled, straightening up with difficulty and pushing her hair out of her face impatiently.

"So I've been told," he smiled faintly.

His hands, whether voluntarily or not, rubbed her side in a rather sensual manner, his fingers brushing against the bottom curve of her chest.

"Behave yourself," she chided, pushing his hands away and squashing the insane desire she had to let him keep going. "You're drunk."

"Not - not very . . ." he mumbled, his arms falling limply down at his side.

She smiled reluctantly. "Why did you go and get yourself in such a state, hmm?" she asked, without thinking reaching down and brushing his hair back.

He didn't answer, his eyes fluttering shut. She watched him for a moment, wishing that she could apologise to him, but knowing that if she did, he wouldn't remember it in the morning. Though maybe that wasn't a bad thing . . .

"I - I know I've been a bit of a bitch lately," she sighed, surprised that she found it easier to confess her feelings when he was unconscious. "I'm sorry. It's just . . ." she paused, pondering her own actions for a moment before continuing. "It's just that I find it . . . _difficult . . ._to be around you sometimes, and not be able to tell you . . ." she stopped again, feeling silly for telling him this when he was in such a state.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

She smiled again fondly, noticing how cute he looked with his tousled hair. "Go to sleep," she whispered, patting his arm and getting to her feet to go and close the door.

"Jenny . . ." he breathed unexpectedly.

She turned to look at him again, although she knew he was probably just talking in his sleep. However, a few seconds later -

"I - I love you," he murmured, so quietly that she almost missed it.

She froze, her heart stopping dead.

"What?" she gapped in shock.

"I . . . I love you . . . I need . . ." he whispered, but trailed off, his eyes shutting again.

"Cutter!" she shouted, walking up to him and perching on the side of the bed. "What did you just say?"

He muttered something unintelligible in his sleep, but other than that, he didn't respond.

"Nick?" she said, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him slightly in frustration. "You can't just tell me something like that to me and then go to sleep! Wake up!"

His breathing had become deep and steady, telling her that whether she liked it or not, he had gone into a deep sleep.

Groaning, she released him and sat back, shaking her head in disbelief.

What the hell had just happened? Was that just the drink talking? Or - her pulse raced slightly at the thought - did he really mean it?


	22. Starting again

Chapter 22

His throbbing head was the first thing that Cutter became aware of, closely followed by an acute pain in his ribs. Opening his eyes was an huge effort, especially when light poured in, causing pain to shoot across his retinas. Groaning, he closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side, fighting against the nausea in his stomach.

"Morning," Jenny's amused voice said from across the room.

Cutter opened his eyes again, and saw that Jenny was curled in the chair in the corner, Connor's book open on her lap that she had started reading out of sheer boredom a few days previously, despite saying that The Lord of the Rings wasn't really her thing.

"Um, morning," he replied, wincing as he sat up.

He looked down at himself, noticing that he was still dressed in the same clothes he had worn the day before.

"How did I get back here?" he asked, gritting his teeth against a particularly nasty twinge he felt in his ribs. Carefully, he pulled up his shirt to reveal angry looking bruising. "How did I get that?" he exclaimed in surprise.

Jenny closed her book, and got to her feet. "I have no idea how you managed to navigate your way back here; probably stumbling against every door along the way judging by the state you were in," she replied in a blunt tone as she took a seat on the bed next to him.

"And the bruise? Were you that annoyed at me that you had to drop-kick me?"

She laughed slightly, batting his hands away from his injury and examining it herself. "Unfortunately, the pleasure was not mine. You must have fell on your way back. Does it hurt?" she asked, prodding it gently.

"Yes!" he gasped, pushing her hand away from it. "A lot."

"Good," she smiled, shuffling away from him a little. "That'll teach you not to drink so much."

"If I remember correctly, I did that so I wouldn't have to be subjected to your temper for the rest of the evening," he pointed out, slowly lying back down. "And thanks for leaving me in my clothes last night."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Well frankly Cutter, undressing you would have meant a bit more man-handling than I was prepared to do."

"You could have at least took my boots off," he mumbled.

She stared at him for a moment, with a very strange expression on her face. Then, she looked away as though embarrassed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Do - do you remember anything else?" she asked tentatively.

"Like what?"

"Like anything you said when you got back here?" she pushed, still not looking at him.

Cutter's heart seemed to jump to his throat. He had no memory of how he had got back to the room, let alone what he had said to her when he had. But by the way she was acting, he could tell that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"Why, what did I say?" he demanded, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

She glanced around at him, still giving him a funny look. "So you don't remember?"

"Remember what?" he asked desperately, his pulse racing to dangerous levels.

She opened her mouth as though to reply, but hesitated slightly, frowning. "It doesn't matter," she said eventually.

She made to stand up, but he grabbed her hand to stop her, scared that he had said something nasty to her and hurt her feelings.

"Jenny," he breathed, wondering how the hell he was going to get himself out of this one.

She stayed sitting, but didn't look at him, all of a sudden seeming very interested in something on the floor.

"Look - " he began nervously. "I - I don't know what I said to you . . . but whatever it was, well . . . I was drunk. I didn't know what I was saying."

"Right," she said, still not meeting his eye.

"And maybe we could just pretend last night didn't happen?" he continued hopefully.

She looked around at him, her expression rearranged into one of impassiveness. "Okay," she answered shortly, getting to her feet and heading towards the door.

But it was no good; he couldn't leave it like that.

"I'm sorry if I said something horrible to you," he blurted out, sitting up again.

She turned slowly, leaning her back against the door. "You didn't," she sighed.

"Well I must have said something to upset you. You can barely look at me."

Again she paused, as though trying to work out how much to say. "I haven't been the easiest person to live with either," she reasoned after a few moments. "So maybe we should just forget everything we've said to each other and just start again, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, still unable to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that whatever he had said had rattled her.

* * *

Despite his previous conviction that she was angry at him about something, Jenny was as good as her word and didn't bring whatever it was up again. Even a few days afterwards, she was a lot nicer to him; her persona a lot warmer than it had ever been before which made their living situation a lot more pleasant. However, there was a downside; before, when she had been cold and officious with him, he had found it easier to hide his feelings and he matched her manner with a hostile one of his own. But now, her friendliness made it a lot harder to mask the way he felt about her, and so every now and then, he felt himself slipping.

"I really need a shave," he said with a sigh, scrutinizing his chin in the tiny mirror they had bough a few weeks ago.

"Well have one then," she said, her voice wavering with a suppressed laugh as she looked up over her book.

"I would if I wasn't afraid of slitting my throat in the process," he answered, rubbing his hand over his growing stubble - the blades people used for shaving in this period were very dangerous and required a skilled hand to use.

"I could do it for you?" she said in an innocent voice.

He chuckled, putting the mirror down and looking round at her. "As if I'd trust you to run a sharp implement over my neck."

She glanced up at him and smiled warmly, but didn't answer.

"How come you haven't grown any extra hair?" he asked curiously.

"Excuse me?" she laughed questioningly, snapping her book closed.

"You heard me."

"How on earth would you know if i have or not?" she asked in disbelief.

"I've seen your legs," he reminded her.

"Well you haven't seen the rest of my body," she pointed out.

"Is that an invitation?" he smirked before he could stop himself.

She scowled and threw the book at him, which he dodged easily.

"For your information, I've had laser done," she sniffed. "So I don't need to shave."

"I wish I could have that done," he sighed.

"I like your stubble," she said, tilting her head to one side in a way that reminded him so much of Claudia.

"Oh yeah?" he said, unable to hide his surprise. "You don't really strike me as the type of woman to go for unshaven men?"

"Oh, and you know what type of woman I am?"

"Sure I do," he nodded confidently.

"Enlighten me," she said, her eyebrow raised.

"You're the type of woman who likes clean-cut, suit-wearing, opera-loving men," he informed her honestly. "That's what Mark is."

"He doesn't like opera," Jenny retorted smugly.

"Well, two out of three isn't bad."

"If I had another book, Nick, I would throw it at you."

"And no doubt miss terribly again."

That was another change he had noticed from her. Before, he was always 'Cutter' to her, never 'Nick' or even 'Professor', and he was sure he knew exactly why. She had never referred to him as 'Professor' as she didn't want to give him a title; something to place him above her. He was never 'Nick' as it was way too personal, and gave the illusion that they were more than colleagues. Calling him 'Cutter' was the perfect way to keep her distance and her authority over him. It had bugged him to say the least, but he understood that she was a female in a top profession that was dominated by males, and so acting as unfeeling and cold as a male was important to secure her future in the job. But now she was different, most likely because she was away from her job and her life with Mark. She called him 'Nick' a lot more, and god help him, he loved hearing her say his name.

A small part of him wished they could go back to being horrible to each other; at least then he had known his place. He had known were he stood, and even though he didn't like it, at least things were black and white. But now, they way they flirted and teased each other - it was starting to confuse him. There was even some times that he caught himself thinking that the feelings he had for her were mutual. After all, even though he was out of practice with such matters, he was not so clueless that he couldn't tell when someone was flirting with him. But, he reasoned with himself, she was probably just doing it to amuse herself. It's not like there was much else to do there, and a bit of harmless flirtation did seem to lessen the pain of missing their world, which he was beginning to doubt they'd ever see again anyway. But that opened up another argument that he had with himself regularly. What if they were stuck here for the rest of their lives? Would they continue on like they had been doing - enjoying each other's company, slipping occasionally and getting a bit to close, before remembering themselves and erecting a wall between them again. He didn't think he could bare that. But what he couldn't bare even more was the idea of them getting back and her marrying Mark, which she was sure to do if the anomaly re-appeared. But what was worse than the two of them put together was the thought that if they did become more than . . . well he supposed 'friends' was the right word, even though he had never classed her as one before . . . would it only be because she couldn't have Mark, and he just happen to be here? A convenient second choice. But this whole train of thought was pointless anyway. She was only being nice to him, like she had promised.

There was no point in reading more into it than that.

* * *

**The first part of my next chapter will probably focus on what's going at home. **

**Hope people are still enjoying x**


	23. Back home

Chapter 23

Sighing, Mark threw his keys on the side table and slammed the door shut unnecessarily hard behind him. The suffocating silence pressed against him, as usual making his heart sink. It wasn't as if Jenny made much noise in general, but just knowing that she wasn't there waiting for him was enough to make a bubble of sorrow build up inside him. Shaking his head, he made his way into the lounge, everything he passed reminding him unarguably of her. He sunk into the couch, burying his head in his hands. It had been nearly two months. Two bloody months, and still no word on her whereabouts. That was what he didn't understand. Jenny worked for some top sector of the government - how could it be that they didn't have any leads yet about who had taken her or where they were holding her? Every time Mark phoned the number he'd been given by that insufferable Lester man, he got the same run-of-the-mill answer: _'I'm sorry that there's no news yet Mr Banks, but we are doing everything we can to get Jenny back safely'._ Pressing his fingers into his eyes hard, he let out a groan of frustration as her face popped up in his head. Why on earth had he taken her for granted? Why had he let their lives slip into a dull routine?

A knock on the door roused him from his thoughts, and with another sigh, he slouched off to answer it. Heart sinking, he was greeted with Olivia, Jenny's maid-of-honour . . . he could really do without this today.

"Any news?" she asked hopefully as she walked passed him, uninvited.

"No," he replied shortly, following her back into the living room. "I told you that I would call if I heard anything."

She turned to look at him, her face furrowed with worry. "I know. It's just that this idea popped into my head the other day, and I can't seem to get it out."

"What?" he asked bluntly, reluctantly gesturing over to the sofa.

"What if Jenny hasn't really been kidnaped?" she blurted out, perching on the side of the couch. "What if she found out about us and bolted?"

He took a seat next to her. "No," he sighed, rubbing his hand over his forehead. "That's not possible. And anyway, her boss is really worried about her. I can tell. Why would they bother covering up for her if the only reason was so she could leave me?"

She nodded, looking a little relieved. She paused for a moment, before leaning over to him and pressing her lips against his, catching him by surprise. Instinctively, he kissed her back before pushing her away abruptly when his screaming conscience got the better of him.

"I can't," he gulped, shifting himself to put a bit more space between them.

"Why not?" she asked, looking confused.

He laughed in disbelief. "Because my fiancee is missing! It can't be like it used to."

"But . . ." she stammered, her eyes searching his face. "You - you never seemed to care about her that much anyway."

"I know," he said guiltily. "That was a mistake."

"But you said you though she was screwing some guy she worked with! Why should we feel guilty?"

She was in a very close proximity to him again, leaning forward as though to kiss him, but before their lips met again, he stood up.

"This is ridiculous!" he burst out, moving away from her.

"But - "

"No, you listen to me," he shouted over her, his worry and pain coming out as anger. "Whatever we had, it's over. I only slept with you because I was certain Jenny was going to leave me for that guy at her work. But she didn't. She said 'I do' to me . . . I know she wants to be with me . . ."

"But - "

"And the truth of the matter is that you don't even compare to her," he continued, being as brutal as he could. "She's the most beautiful, intriguing, sexy woman I've ever met, and just because I was drunk enough to have a quick fumble with you a dozen times does not mean that anything is going to ever happen again. I love Jenny, and if - _when_- she gets rescued, I'm going to marry her, and never look at another woman again. Especially you."

Olivia looked at him with a horrified expression. She slowly got to her feet, rearranging her face into a cold glare. As quick as a flash, she smacked him across the face, before purposely barging past his shoulder and out of sight. Laughing slightly, he rubbed the side of his jaw as he heard the front door slam shut. Olivia had been fun to sleep with every now and then, especially since he had a feeling Jenny was enjoying some 'extra-curricular activities' of her own with that blonde-haired man that had knocked round a while back, but now it just felt wrong. However, his suspicions were not unjustified - Jenny had portrayed all the signs of a cheat; she was late home from work a lot, she left their engagement party with some lame excuse to cover her back, and any intimate moments between them had become lukewarm at best compared to when they had first got together - when they were dating, she had literally blown his mind. But he was determined that they would get back to that again. He would make sure that he treated her the way she deserved to be, no more messing around. He knew what he wanted now. He wanted Jenny. He wanted her to be his wife, he wanted kids and he wanted to be a faithful husband.

And Mark always got what he wanted.

* * *

Abby sat at her preferred station on a grassy mound that over-looked a large portion of the hotel's garden. Shivering slightly in the icy breeze, she hugged her knees up to her chin. Most spare moments she could catch, she drove down here, hand-held detector in her bag, and sat watching the place were the infamous anomaly had disappeared, taking Cutter and Jenny with it. Most occasions, she was joined by Sarah or Connor, but this time, she was alone, which she preferred if she was entirely honest with herself. Not that she didn't enjoy her friends company, but they always seemed to feel the need to voice aloud their thoughts that Jenny and Cutter would be fine, and that the anomaly would re-appear again soon, etc, etc. Abby knew they were only trying to comfort her, and themselves probably, but it was becoming tiresome to constantly nod along, and keep up a false positive attitude. It had been two long months, and not even a flicker of the anomaly had been seen since, which made optimism seem rather redundant. Not that Abby had lost all hope - that's why she continued to sit and stare at the empty anomaly-less space, raising her head hopefully every time the sun rays caught an object in the distance, before slumping down with bitter disappointment when the anomaly failed to appear.

She was worried, she had to admit. Even though Jenny and Cutter were more than capable of taking care of themselves in any era, the chances of them surviving decreased by the day. What if there was no reliable food-source or water supply there? What if the place was teeming with predators? Sighing inwardly, she rubbed her tired eyes when a voice spoke from behind her, making her start.

"Nick's got you lot well trained hasn't he?" the cold voice said.

Abby's head shot round, and with a sickening lurch, she saw that Helen was leaning casually against a tree.

"What do you want?" Abby mumbled, turning back to the deserted landscape.

"To offer my support, what else?" Helen said, striding over and taking a seat next to her.

"Your support isn't needed, and certainly isn't wanted," Abby sniffed, not giving the woman the courtesy of looking at her when she spoke.

"Well that's a shame," Helen sighed dramatically. "Because I might have been able to help."

Abby's head snapped around at her, a reluctant knot of excitement tightening in her stomach.

"How?"

Helen shrugged. "I know what time they're stuck in. I might be able to get them back."

"We know they're stuck in the Permian era because of the Dimetrodon," Abby pointed out.

"No, they're not," the woman corrected her smugly. "The Dimetrodon had traveled through two anomalies to get here. They are, in fact, in the fifteen hundreds."

"What?" Abby gapped.

"Yes," Helen nodded, leaning back on her arms. "They're playing house in some romantic inn."

"How do you know?" Abby demanded, her head whirling with this new piece of information.

Helen glanced around at her, and raised her eyebrows, but didn't reply.

"And what do you mean 'playing house'?" Abby continued, picking up on the subtle hinting there.

"All I'm saying is I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't want to come back," she answered cryptically.

"Why?"

"Lets just say they're extremely happy in each other's company. If I were you, I wouldn't get your hopes up for a happy reunion."

"You don't know what your saying," Abby snapped, knowing that the woman was talking nonsense. "There is nothing going on between Cutter and Jenny. She's about to be married for gods sake! And not everyone's an adulteress like you."

Helen laughed coldly. "Okay fine, don't believe me. But believe this - if you want, I can get them back."

"And what would you get out of it?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," she stated, getting to her feet. "I want a meeting with Lester. Next week."

"Next week?" Abby exclaimed in disbelief. "Why wait so long? If you can bring them back, go and do it now!"

"And what would be the fun in that?" the woman smirked in a way that made Abby want to smack that smug face. "Tell Lester I'll see him this time next week, right here."

She disappeared off into the trees before Abby could shout her back, leaving her feeling incredibly bemused and apprehensive. She turned back to stare out at the grounds, her thoughts running a mile a minute. She knew she shouldn't get her hopes up - Helen was a two-timing, two-faced, untrustworthy bitch who loved to play havoc with peoples lives. There was no point in getting excited about it - she was probably just talking nonsense. But one thing she said did bother her a lot. What did Helen mean when she said that Jenny and Cutter were 'playing house'? The insinuation made her feel uncomfortable, mainly because a tiny part of her felt that she could possibly be right. To Abby, Jenny and the Professor had never seen eye to eye on anything, and most of their conversations were cold and abrupt, usually ending in an argument. Now, however, she couldn't help but think that what she had taken for hostility between the two of them had perhaps been hiding something deeper.

More confused than ever, she got to her feet slowly, thinking that the very least she should go and tell the others about Helen's little bombshell, despite the fact that it would probably amount to nothing anyway. But any hope, no matter how small it was, was worth clinging on to in her opinion, and maybe - just maybe - Helen might be able to help. She was aware that that sentence was an oxymoron, but in this particular case, Abby herself was prepared to take the risk.

* * *

**More Jenny/Nick coming up in the next chapter, and yes Nathol99, I promise some fluff lol :) Just to give credit were credit's due, the Mark portion of the chapter came from a suggestion that EtherealDemon gave to me in a review, so that one was for you! X**


	24. The list

Chapter 24

"My hair drier," Jenny said with longing in her voice.

"Coffee," Cutter interjected.

"Oh yes, coffee! I would _kill_ for a Starbucks right now - "

They were both lying next to each other on the bed one afternoon playing a game they had just came up with - what they missed the most about home.

"Underwear," Jenny continued with a sigh. "I hate the way they don't wear it here. It's weird."

"Funnily enough, the idea of you not wearing underwear doesn't bother me in the slightest," he grinned daringly.

She looked around at him with a mock-scandalised expression and smacked him lightly on the arm. "Behave," she chided, although he noticed that she didn't look too cross.

"Fine," he sighed in playful disappointment. They were doing it again - flirting.

"What about people?" she asked, her cool tone not quite hiding her smile. "Anyone in particular you miss?"

"Well, there's Abby, Sarah and Connor of course," Cutter pointed out, turning on his side to see her better.

"Of course," she nodded back, mirroring him by turning towards him also, her legs curled up so that her knees brushed against his. "Although I wouldn't go as far as to say Lester."

"God no!" he laughed. "In fact, this had been a welcomed break from him.

"I wouldn't quite put it like that," she smirked, resting her head on her arm. "If it was a toss up between staying here and having to be subjected to one of his rants again, I think I'd still pick the rant."

"True," Cutter nodded fairly.

Jenny smiled, but her brow furrowed suddenly and her expression became etched with worry. "My brother. I hope he's okay - "

"He will be," Cutter reassured her gently as he had done several times since they had been stranded there. "He wouldn't have been able to get back through the anomaly if he wasn't. And they would have fixed him up again, don't worry."

She nodded, biting her lip slightly as though still in deep thought.

"What about your parents?" Cutter asked, more so to change the subject than anything else. "Don't you miss them?"

She let out a bark-like laugh, shifting herself onto her back again. "Erm, let me think about that . . . no!"

"Why not?"

"Well let's put it this way; my farther probably hasn't put down his newspaper long enough to even notice I'm gone, and I've been the bane of my mother's existence since I was old enough to talk."

"Right," Cutter replied quietly, feeling slightly awkward for bringing that up particular topic - it was obviously a sensitive one.

But another thing struck him as odd as they continued listing the things they missed about their old life; he didn't know whether he was reading too much into it or not, but he found it rather strange that Jenny didn't mention Mark. Surely she would miss the man she was about to marry more than anything or anyone else? He wondered whether he could be bold enough to ask her about it, or whether she would thing he was prying too much. However, burning curiosity seemed to get the better of him as he listened to her.

" . . . oh, and how could I forget make-up," she finished, now sounding thoroughly depressed. "I feel dreadful without it."

"Well you don't look dreadful," he pointed out, causing her lips to twitch upwards slightly in a repressed smile. "Jenny?" he added tentatively.

"Hmm?"

"You haven't mentioned Mark," he continued, his stomach clenching as he prepared himself for her reaction. "About the people you missed - you left him out."

She hesitated for a moment before replying. "So I did," she mumbled.

"Is - was everything okay between the two of you?" he probed as carefully as possible.

"It's complicated," she replied, a frown flickering across her face. Then, as though she'd realised she'd said too much, she glanced around at him. "And it's none of your business," she added shortly.

He nodded, his heart sinking as he looked away. "Right."

An awkward silence filled the space between them.

"Come on," she said after a few tense moments, rising herself to a sitting position. "Lets go down to the bar for a bit."

"It's a bit early isn't it?" he queried.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And since when has that been a problem for you?"

"Okay," he sighed, getting slowly to his feet. "If that's what you want . . ."

* * *

Jenny sat at the roughly carved wooden table, drumming her fingers tunelessly against it as she waited impatiently for Cutter to bring the drinks back. She sighed to herself, not feeling like a particularly nice person. How could she have failed to mention Mark in her list of things she missed? He was her fiance for goodness sake! Was she so selfish that she could forget that fact in only a couple of months? But deep down, she knew the reason why she hadn't brought him up. It was because being there - away from him and away from her life - it had forced her to realise that marrying him, playing the 'dotting wife' - it wasn't what she wanted. It probably never had been, but it had just seemed like the easiest option at the time. But being trapped in the past, especially with Cutter, had made her re-think everything. Why should she settle for something and someone that didn't make her happy? Assuming she ever got back _to _settle that it . . .

Desperate to stop thinking about Mark and for a lack of anything better to occupy herself, she surveyed the large room with distaste for about the millionth time since they'd arrived there. Despite the fact that sunset was still a couple of hours away, the place was very dull; the only light coming from a few small, grime-caked windows and the slowly flickering candles on the brackets attached to the walls. Even though it was still rather early, the room was still filled with men, some huddled together in dark corners talking in hushed voices, and others in large rowdy groups with several woman accompanying them.

Leaning her elbow on the table and resting her head in her cupped hand, she glanced around at Cutter, and was taken aback to see that he was talking with some young blonde woman whilst he waited for the drinks. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she watched as the girl leaned forwards and whispered something in his ear, and he smiled and shook his head. Jenny looked away abruptly, batting away the wave of jealousy that threatened to engulf her. She only looked back around when she sensed Cutter approaching the table, carrying two pewter mugs brimming with beer.

"There you go," he said cheerfully, setting the drinks down and taking a seat opposite her.

"Thanks," she replied icily. "Why so happy?"

"Am I?"

She nodded, looking him up and down as she fingered the rim of her mug. "So, she's pretty."

"Who?"

"The blonde."

"Oh, you think so?" he said, looking thoroughly amused. "Would you like me to introduce you two?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I meant," she snapped sarcastically.

"Don't be putting any images in my head please . . . I've already got that image of your tattoo emblazoned in my brain - "

"You think this is funny?" she said, completely aghast.

"Yes," he grinned in a way that usually took her breath away. "Oh come on - lighten up. She was only after a bit of business."

"Oh, well that's okay then," she said in a mock-childish voice as she took a sip of her drink.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous," he pointed out, the smug look on his face unbearable.

"Well it's a good job you do know better then," she retorted, feeling herself blush. "I'm just wondering if you have some sort of magnetic ability that draws hooker's to you? You seem to get hit on an awful lot."

"That'll be my sheer animal magnetism," he smirked, gesturing down at himself.

Jenny laughed as coldly as she could. "Or maybe they can just smell the desperation?" she suggested cruelly.

"I see someone's in a strop," he said, raising a questioning eyebrow. "It's not like you never get chatted up."

"Yes, but only because they think I'm am a prostitute!" she snapped.

He opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to freeze, his eyes widening in fear as he looked over her head. The colour drained from his face in a second.

"What - ?" Jenny began, but before she could finish her question, he had grabbed her around the wrist, pulling her to her feet and across the crowded room.

Suddenly, he stopped and pushed her roughly up against the wall behind a two-foot wide pillar, pressing himself against her.

"Cutter, what the hell are you doing?" she hissed, her voice muffled against his shirt.

"I don't think he saw us," he breathed, a definite note of panic in his voice.

"Who?" she demanded in a strained whisper.

He lessened the pressure on her, allowing her to peer around the pillar - when she finally saw what Cutter was talking about, her heart seemed to cease beating.

There, striding towards the bar and talking to a man at his side, was none other than the guard they had had the run in with.

Brandon.

Withdrawing her head quickly and slamming her back up against the wall, she looked up at Cutter and saw the same terror she felt mirrored on his face. He pressed himself still closer to her, all the better to hide; so close, in fact, that their lips kept brushing up against each others accidently. Unfortunately, Jenny didn't have the time to enjoy this; they had more pressing matters to deal with.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered, practically speaking into his mouth, trying to suck herself in as much as possible.

"I don't know," he whispered back urgently, slowly reaching up and resting his arm on the wall behind her to flatten out more. "The way out is right past him."

* * *

**I now have a vague idea where this story is going now, so yey :) let me know what you think x**


	25. The excuse

Chapter 25

Jenny's breaths came in short sharp pants due, in part, to the weight of Cutter crushing her painfully against the wall. He seemed in no better shape than she was; his chest rose and fell rapidly against hers, telling her that he was panicking, and she had learnt long ago that anything that made him panic was definitely something to panic about. Not that she needed telling that in this particular case - she remembered vividly that vile guard cracking the whip against her back, causing the angry-looking scar that now threaded across her pale skin. In any case, her subconscious reminded her of it every night - she sometimes awoke in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, shaking, as though she could still feel the blinding pain slicing her, only calming when she looked around to see Cutter sleeping peacefully next to her. It was certainly not an experience that she was likely to forget in a hurry.

She knew that if this Brandon man discovered them there, they would most certainly be killed . . . or worse.

Cutter could obviously sense that she was extremely uncomfortable, but must have mistakenly thought that the close proximity of their lips was to blame, and so he had moved his face so that their cheeks were in contact instead.

"Maybe he won't remember us?" Cutter whispered hopefully, his breath hot against her neck.

She laughed slightly against his ear. "How many other couples do you think that he's encountered that he's whipped and been half-strangled by?"

"True - "

"And we're going to have to move some time soon," she continued, her quiet voice shaking. "We're acting odd, even for this place. It's going to attract attention to us."

Slowly, Cutter pulled away for a moment, glancing carefully around the pillar again. In a split second, he pushed back up against her, his eyes wide and fearful.

"He's coming this way!" he said in an strained whisper.

Jenny squeezed her eyes shut, terror overwhelming her completely. Maybe they should just make a run for it? It was only when she felt Cutter's lips on top of hers that her eyes flew open again, and she gasped slightly, her stomach doing a back-flip. Her reaction didn't seem to put him off however, and he continued to kiss her urgently, and after a few startled moments, her mind went blank and she kissed him back forcefully, winding her arms around his neck as she did so. It was a good few seconds before she realised what he was doing - maybe hiding in a dark corner was odd in a pub in this time, but canoodling in one certainly wasn't. In fact, it seemed to be classed as the norm in these sorts of places. By kissing, they were hiding their faces and keeping out of sight with a valid excuse - and it wasn't like she couldn't take some enjoyment in it, despite the dire situation. In an adrenaline-fueled moment, she wound her fingers in his hair, pulling him still closer, deepening the contact. She felt him tremble against her, and probably for effect, he reached down with one hand and pulled her thigh up to his waist, the other arm around her back, emulating the sort of behaviour they had seen rather a lot of the past two months.

After a while, he stopped the kiss, but didn't move his lips away from hers, breathing hard into her mouth. "Is he looking?" he asked in a barely audible whisper before taking her lips in his again.

As they kissed, she purposely tilted her head to the side, her eyes scanning the tables near them. She spotted Brandon sitting with a small group of men in a table not far from them, although he seemed engrossed in a conversation with his companions and didn't look around.

"No," she breathed, her lips not moving from his and her hands stroking the hair at the back of his neck. With an knot of inappropriate excitement, she felt him dig his fingernails into the skin on her thigh as she did so. "He's eight feet behind you, to your left."

"Okay," he mumbled shakily, catching her top lip inbetween his own parted lips and closing his eyes. "We move as casually as possible over to the stairs. Don't rush or it'll look too suspicious."

She nodded, only moving her head a fraction of an inch either way.

"When I say so . . ." Cutter continued, his nose brushing her own, inadvertently causing her to scrunch up her face in reaction to his warm skin. ". . . we break apart slowly and you act like you're leading me upstairs."

She nodded again, feeling herself getting more and more distracted the longer she stayed entangled with him.

"Now," he breathed as he pulling away, and before she could register the loss of his touch, she slipped into action mode, reaching out and entwining her fingers with his.

She turned, desperately trying to control the instinct she had to look around and see if Brandon had seen them, and pulled Cutter towards the stairs at the opposite side of the room, purposely trying to lose them in the throngs of people that milled around the place.

After what seemed like an age, they finally reached their goal, and without looking around, they ascended the stairs steadily until they were out of sight of the room, when they both began to sprint in unison. They didn't stop until they reached the warm familiarity of their room. Cutter slammed the door shut behind them and bolted it for good measure, and they both leant their backs on it, breathing hard.

* * *

When he felt his heart beat return to normal, Cutter glanced around at Jenny. Her eyes were shut with relief and her chest still heaved as she fought to regulate her breathing. She must have felt the intensity of his gaze as she opened her eyes a few second later and looked around at him, offering him a weak smile, which he returned.

"Close one," she said, her voice still tight.

"Yeah," he replied lamely, feeling himself grow hot around the collar as their gazes met.

Now that the adrenaline rush had left him, embarrassment was starting to set in. It's not like they had had any choice, and the kissing plan _did_ work - but now that he faced the prospect of having to spend the rest of the night alone with her after that particularly eager display of affection, he could barely look her in the eye. The feeling was obviously mutual, as she abruptly looked away, instead choosing a spot on the opposite wall to stare at.

"Um . . . we're going to have to be more careful in future," he said, more so to fill the awkward silence than anything else. "He might come here a lot."

"Should we move then?" she asked nervously.

Cutter shut his head immediately. "No. We've got it too good here; we know our way around. And wandering round looking for another inn would put us out in the open for longer than we should be."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod slightly in agreement. The matter settled as far as he was concerned, he straightened up and walked away from her, about to make up an excuse about why he wanted to go to sleep so early.

"Nick?" her voice said tentatively.

He turned to see her still leaning against the door, a curious expression on her face that he had never seen before.

"Are we just not going to talk about it then?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms in a way she always did when she was annoyed or uncomfortable about something.

Cutter's stomach seemed to disappear at her words.

"I - I thought we just did," he stammered in reply in as even a tone as he could manage. He knew very well that she was referring to the kiss and not Brandon, but he thought that maybe if he brushed her off with a off-hand comment, she'd drop it. However, with Jenny being Jenny, he had no such luck.

"You know what I mean," she said, a hint of aspiration in her voice.

Sighing deeply, Cutter sunk onto the side of the bed, rubbing his hands over his face as he struggled to come up with a reply. "Look, I'm sorry okay?" he eventually landed on. "I just couldn't think of anything else to do. I promise, it won't happen again."

He chanced a half-glance up at her. She was still leaning with her arms folded, although her expression seemed to have softened, and she stared back at him, biting her lip slightly as though thinking hard. He looked back at the floor again. After a moments pause, he heard her moving and assumed that she was going to sit on the chair or the other side of the bed, but was startled when he felt her hand under his chin, pulling his face up. Before he had even realised what was happening, her soft lips were on his again, making his heart burst it's banks with beating. When he finally managed to convince himself he wasn't dreaming, he kissed her back, hard, standing as he did so and slipping his hands around her waist. One of her hands was on his cheek, the other grabbed at the back of his shirt. Spaced out and completely lost in the moment, he only managed to come to his senses when he felt her touch move down to his crotch and her fingers tug at his pants.

Panting as hard as she was, he managed to pull away, pressing his eyes together in frustration and resting his forehead on hers.

"Jenny . . ." he breathed, before stopping short - what exactly was he planning to say? That he was nervous because he had basically been living like a monk for the best part of a decade? That it was wrong when he hadn't even told her how he felt about her yet? And what about Mark? Her _fiancé_. Was it over with him?

Before any of these questions could form any logical order in his head, she had stepped back slightly, holding his gaze as she slowly undid the lace that was on the front of her dress underneath her breasts. He watched, entranced, as she slid the clothing from her shoulders. It was when his eyes traveled down her body that the small part of him wanting to say 'no' vanished in an instant, his mind going completely blank.

"Don't start something you can't finish Nick," she stated, her eyes bright as she moved forwards to catch his lips again.

He didn't need telling twice.

* * *

**And that is why this story is rated 'T' lol x**


	26. The storm

Chapter 26

A flash of lightning slicing into the darkness wrenched Cutter out of the peacefully dreamless slumber he had been in. As his sleepy gaze wondered around the room, he noticed the candles that usually burnt bright on the brackets had melted down to a small mound of wax at the base, the dying flame not adequate enough to light the room. He glanced around and smiled to himself slightly. Jenny was fast asleep, her back pressed against his side, her head resting on his arm and her dark hair splayed fantastically over her bare shoulder. All he could think about was what a surreal night it had been. Every feeling he had for her that he had tried in vain to put aside had spilled out as their lips met, and it was like no one else existed.

There was no fiancés, no feelings of guilt or regret.

Just them, panting and sweating, completely lost in one other.

A mischievous impulse took over him as he watched her, and he shook her awake with his hand on her hip as the low rumble of thunder became discernable over the patter of rain.

"Jenny?" he whispered in her ear.

"Hm?" she groaned sleepily, her eyes still firmly shut.

"Jenny?" he shook her a little harder. "Can you hear that?"

Her eyes fluttered open just as the thunder reached it's peak, a crashing sound breaking the silence.

"Well I bloody can now can't I?" she mumbled, sounding annoyed as she shut her eyes again, shifting herself slightly. "Go back to sleep you nutcase."

He laughed slightly, planting a kiss on her shoulder before getting out of bed and pulling a loose pair of pants on.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice still sounding groggy.

"Getting a better look," he replied, standing up and moving over to the window.

"It's a storm, what is there to see?" she snapped, her eyes still shut as she turned onto her front, flicking her hair out of her face as she did so.

But Cutter had always loved lightning storms, ever since he was a child. He didn't know why, but they reminded him of feeling safe and secure - made him feel that everything was going to be okay. Silly really, seeing as storms could be dangerous at times, but he had never been able to shake off that feeling into his adult life.

He glanced out into the greyish-black sky above just as another fork of lightning bolted across it. His eyes were drawn to the full moon that was peaking though a cloud, and was rather taken aback to see that it was a deep orange colour, looking incredibly close and extremely beautiful.

"Jenny, you have to see this," he said, taking secret pleasure in pestering her.

With a groan, she pulled the sheet over her head. "I hate you," she mumbled, her voice muffled slightly.

"Come on," he said in a ringing tone. "The quicker you come and look, the quicker I'll leave you to go back to sleep."

After a moments pause, she huffed, getting out of bed slowly, wrapping one of their sheets around herself and tucking it in under her arm.

"I'm officially pissed off," she stated with a glare as she reached him.

"So what's new?" he retorted with a smile, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her in front of him. "There," he pointed at the moon.

"Pretty," she yawned, her hand running back through her tousled hair. "Though it would have been prettier at a more reasonable hour - "

"You really don't have a romantic bone in your body, do you?"

"No, thank god," she replied coldly, although he could hear the amusement in her voice. "And for future reference Nick, waking a woman up in the middle of the night to stare out the window isn't romantic."

He chuckled, putting his arms around her waist and hugging her from behind. She seemed to forgive him instantly, relaxing back against him and resting her head on his shoulder. He ghosted his lips across her cool skin, gently pushing her hair out of the way so he could continue kissing up her neck lightly. She sighed in a contented manner and tilted her head to the side to allow him better access. She didn't turn around, but her hand reached up and rested on his cheek, and she looked over her shoulder, pulling his lips into hers.

They broke away as another bang of thunder clattered in the distance.

"I knew I'd get to see that tattoo again," he said with a grin.

"Oh - did you now?" she smiled, turning to face him and wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.

"Of course," he nodded triumphantly.

"I think you're a tad obsessed with that tattoo," she pointed out.

"It's not so much the tattoo, but the area it's on," he informed her, protesting his innocence.

"Ah right," she joked. "I'm just glad I've finally found a way to shut you up. It's only taken me two months."

"And I guarantee that you seducing me will _always_ work. In fact, I feel a bit of a fossil conversation coming on right now - "

She hurriedly pulled him into a kiss again, and he could feel her smiling against his lips. A flash of lightning lit up the room again, and Cutter felt his gaze travel absently out the window -

His heart stopped dead.

Standing the courtyard, lit up with the lightning, was Helen. She was dressed in a sixteenth century dress and looking up at them, her hair soaked and plastered to her face. Then, the flash subsided, and the outside was plunged into darkness once more. He pushed Jenny away quickly and rested his hands either side of the window, his eyes frantically searching the courtyard.

"What?" Jenny asked urgently, sounding bemused.

Lightning lit up the place again, but Helen was nowhere to be seen.

"Nick - what is it?" Jenny demanded, sounding more frustrated.

"I - I thought I saw - " Cutter stammered, before stopping himself. He had probably just imagined it, and there was no need to freak Jenny out for no reason. "Nothing - it doesn't matter . . ."

"No, go on!" she pushed.

"Nothing," he repeated, turning back to her with a fake smile hitched on his face. "It was just a trick of the light, that's all."

She frowned at him for a moment, her eyes searching his face as though trying to decide if he was lying. Eventually, she reached up and gently brushed her hand against his cheek.

"Don't you be going loopy on me, okay?" she said, the humour in her voice not quite covering the concern. "I need you fully sane. Well, as sane as you've ever been anyway."

"Okay," he nodded with a genuine smile.

"Now, come back to bed," she added, reaching down and taking his hand, tugging on it slightly.

"You're making me feel cheap Miss Lewis," he said in a mock-offended voice as he allowed her to lead him back to the bed.

"I meant for sleep Cutter," she corrected him as she lay down.

"That's what all the ladies say," he joked as he lay next to her, opening his arm so that she could cuddle into him.

"Well, this lady actually means it," she stated firmly as she rested her head against him.

He tiled her chin up and pressed his lips to hers tenderly, and despite her protests, he felt her kiss him back, her hand settling on his bare chest. When he finally pulled away with a cheeky nip of her bottom lip, her eyes were closed and seemed to be breathless.

"Still mean it?" he asked in a light conversational manner.

"Maybe not so much anymore," she said in a distracted voice, opening her eyes slowly.

He smiled and leant in again, wondering vaguely if the urge to kiss her would ever leave him. He quickly concluded that it wouldn't when she abruptly straightened up and sat over his lap, knees either side of his hips. He sat up himself, his mouth searching for hers again as he eagerly pushing the sheet from her, his hands traveling down her body. Her fingers ran back through his hair, and he closed his eyes, losing himself in her touch.

Helen had haunted him for far to long, and he'd be damned if he was going to allow his vision of her to ruin this moment. There was no way it could have been her - they hadn't heard the hand-held detector go off, and in any case, why would she be here? There was no point; her forte, like his, had been Evolutionary Zoology - why would she visit the sixteenth century when there were still numerous prehistoric eras for her to peruse at her leisure? No, he had defiantly imagined it . . .

Helen was driven out of his head completely when Jenny moaned softly, her head dropping back as his lips made their way down her neck and chest. Her sharp fingernails dug into his back, the stinging sensation making him feel wilder.

Nothing and no one - not Helen nor Mark - would spoil this.

* * *

Helen finally found herself some shelter in an abandoned shack that, judging by the smell, she suspected was had been used to house horses at some point. She sat with a sigh on a stack of hay, ringing her saturated hair out moodily. She had really anticipated getting to the inn in the daytime so that she wouldn't have to wait around until morning, but unfortunately she had been forced to open an anomaly a reasonable distance from Nick so that his hand-held detector wouldn't pick it up. She didn't want to throw away the element of surprise after all, although she had nearly blown it by standing outside his window. She was sure he hadn't seen her, but still, she should have been more careful.

She had been rather taken aback when she glanced up and saw Nick kissing the new Claudia. She had joked with Abby about it, of course, but not for one second did she think that the woman - Jenny, she reminded herself - would actually give it up. She had almost been married after all. Unless, like the old Claudia, she had been harbouring romantic feelings for Nick all along. Maybe the two women were more alike that Helen had first thought.

Suddenly, she found herself regretting breaking up Jenny's wedding. Not that she had ever intended them to get stuck in the Tudor times in the first place of course; that had been an accident - she had never imagined that they would actually go through the anomaly. But now, it seems, she had done Nick a favour. And she hated it. She hated that what she had previously intended to be revenge had brought him exactly what he wanted.

Scowling slightly, she lent back against the wooden wall, carefully contemplating her next move. She had promised Lester that she would bring Nick back in exchange for being allowed to stay free to roam the past uninterrupted and unimpeded by the ARC, which the insufferable man had agreed to reluctantly. Her other demand - copies of all their research on the anomalies - had been refused point-blank at first, but when she had threatened to leave Nick and the girl in the past after all, they had reconsidered. Not that Helen expected to gain much information she didn't already know from it, but every little helps. And no matter how much he irked her, she couldn't deny that Nick was not unintelligent, and as much as she hated to admit it, his research could be useful.

But now, she couldn't just let Nick skip merrily back home with his new prize and live happily ever after. He didn't deserve it - not after refusing her. And she couldn't forget his part in Stephen's death. If Nick would have just let her take Stephen and go instead of dragging them back to help contain the creatures in Leek's bunker, Stephen would still be alive. And it wasn't in her to forgive Nick for that. How could she let him have his happiness when he had taken away hers?

No, something had to be done.

She couldn't very well leave them both here though - not only was she eager to gain the research she wanted, but she knew that the ARC would come after her if she didn't bring them back, and even though she didn't doubt her ability to allude Lester's men, it would become tiresome after a while. That aside, she couldn't pretend that she wasn't concerned about them changing the time line again. Claudia being born as Jenny proves that such a small and seemingly insignificant difference could change something, and she would be lying if concern over her own existence hadn't crossed her mind.

So now that she had decided not to leave them, the only other obvious choice was to cause a little bedlam before she took them back. Not that she'd take them back herself of course, merely provide them with the tools to make their own way.

She sighed again, bringing up her knees to rest underneath her chin. At least she'd have a few hours until sunrise to come up with something.

* * *

**Tehe ;) **

**Just so you know, I'll be able to update a lot more now that my job has finished and I've got a week until uni starts again. So yey :)**


	27. The lie

Chapter 27

Cutter awoke to the sound of his watch beeping in that god-awful way he had never been able to find the cause of; the thing just seemed to go off of it's own accord whenever it felt like it. Grumbling, he leaned over and picked it up of the floor to switch it off, causing Jenny to moan in annoyance.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice sounding hoarse.

He pulled the now silent watch up to his eyes, squinting to focus his tired eyes. He deduced that it was quarter to six in the morning - they had only gone to sleep an hour ago.

"Early," he replied shortly as he leant back again, as put-out about the wake up call as she was.

"This has been the worst nights sleep of my life," she complained, leaning her head against his chest.

"Mm, it wasn't all bad though was it?" Cutter pointed out faintly, squeezing her shoulders lightly, feeling himself drifting off to sleep again.

He felt her lift her head up and plant a few kisses on his chest, before she had sat up, taking most of the sheet with her.

"Where are you going?" he asked groggily, surprised at her sudden alertness.

"We can't stay in bed all day, and I've given up on getting my full eight hours sleep," she said, padding across the room and picking up her dress.

"Why, what else is there to do?" he queried, sitting up himself, and watching with disappointment as she stepped into her dress, pulling it up over her shoulders and fastening it in place.

"Oh, I don't know," she said in a teasing manner, walking back and taking a seat on the bed next to him, leaning down to put her shoes on. "Maybe we could write a few Shakespearian plays? We'd make a fortune, and I know 'A Midsummer's Night Dream' and 'The Taming of the Shrew' off by heart."

"William Shakespeare wasn't around until late in Elizabeth the First's reign," he pointed out.

"I know that, that's why we'd be beating him to the punch."

"Yes, and that wouldn't change the future at all," he said sarcastically.

She smiled warmly, giving him a quick kiss before getting to her feet again.

"Where are you going?" he sighed, reaching out and grabbing her wrist.

"I'm going to go and knock next door and apologise for all the noise we made last night," she said abruptly. He gave her a funny look, unable to tell if she was joking or not, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get us a drink," she said in an aspirated tone.

"I'll go and get it," he said immediately, swinging his legs off the bed.

"Nick, we may be in the sixteenth century, but there's no need for us to act like it," she said in a brusque tone. "I can get my own drink, thank you very much.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "But be careful - Brandon might have gotten a room here."

"I'll display all the stealth of a ninja, don't worry," she joked, pressing her lips against his briefly, before unbolting the door and leaving.

Sighing with contentment, Cutter walked over to the small mirror they had propped on the table in the corner, turning and looking over his shoulder to get a glimpse of his still-stinging back. With surprise, he noticed that he had claw marks running across both of his shoulder blades. He smiled to himself slightly, feeling quite proud of himself, when the door opened again. He didn't look round, but assumed that Jenny had forgotten something.

"You really did a number on my back last night," he informed her, still looking in the mirror.

"Did I baby? I'm sorry," a mocking and instantly recognisable voice said.

He spun around.

"Helen?" he gapped, feeling his stomach clench at the mere sight of the woman that he now associated with so much pain and heartbreak.

"In the flesh," she spoke, her voice laced with cool amusement.

"See, I was hoping I was losing my mind when I saw you last night, but no such luck," he said bitterly, reaching for his shirt and pulling it on, not liking the feeling of vulnerability he had being topless in front of her.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you," she drawled, her eyes traveling casually around the room. "It's a nice little set up you've got here. Very cosy."

"I think so," he agreed coldly. "Is there any particular reason you've dropped by, or was it only to comment on our living arrangements?"

"Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood, so I thought it'd be rude not to visit," she said with a false sweet smile.

"Our detector didn't go off - "

"Your detector isn't powerful enough to pick up anomalies over large distances, unlike mine," she informed him smugly.

"Well, what do you want?" he asked abruptly - there was no point in beating around the bush.

"What makes you think I want something?"

He laughed coldly. "Because I know you. I assume you're not here to take us back?"

"See, I didn't think you'd want to come back," she said, crossing her arms and looking him up and down. "You're clearly enjoying yourself here, and you wouldn't want her fiancé to get in the way would you? She was walking down the aisle when the anomaly appeared after all."

"How do you know that?"

She didn't reply but gave him a meaningful look. All of a sudden, everything seemed to click into place. He knew it had been too much of a coincidence that the anomaly had appeared in the exact place Jenny's wedding was taking place.

"You," he stated in disbelief, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "You made the anomaly appear. But how? Why?"

"And here was me thinking you'd be grateful," she said in a mock-hurt voice. "If it wasn't for me, Claudia or whatever her name is now would be married to that heart-throb instead of settling for you. I think you owe me a thank you."

"You marooned us here and you expect me to be grateful?" he gapped in incredulity, purposely not rising to the insinuation she was making about Jenny - he knew she was only saying that to rile him.

"Certainly," she nodded, her hands on her hips. "You got what you wanted, didn't you? Although I must say I'm surprised at you."

"For what?" he asked, knowing he was walking into a verbal trap, but unable to stop himself.

"I know it's been a while for you Nick, but I'm sure I don't need to remind you that sex leads to pregnancy, pregnancy leads to childbirth, and childbirth - well in this time, it mostly lead to expiration."

"I - what?" he said, completely baffled. He hadn't expected her to say that at all.

"Oh don't play dumb Nick, it doesn't suit you," she rolled her eyes. "Most women died during childbirth in the Tudor times. What with the unhygienic environment, and the lack of medical intervention. All it would take was for her to have the wrong blood type to her baby and it'd poison her. The baby could be in the wrong position, and she'd hemorrhage. Anything could go wrong."

"She's not pregnant," Cutter said numbly.

"Yet," Helen corrected him with a smile. "I'm merely saying that I'm surprised you'd put her in unnecessary danger like that. You're usually so noble. And even if she did survive, have you even considered what starting a family here would do to the time line?"

With a dawning realisation, Cutter knew that the honest answer was no. He hadn't even considered the possible ramifications of him and Jenny being together; he had been too wrapped up in his own happiness. He rubbed his hand over his chin, his mind whirling. How the hell had he been clueless that it hadn't even entered his mind? He was usually so sensible, so together - what was it about Jenny that blew all his common sense out of the window? She obviously hadn't considered it either, otherwise they wouldn't have -

"Take us back," Cutter said in a forced-calm voice to Helen. "Now."

"See, I would," she said slowly as though she was considering it. "But I think you need to stay here for now. After all, life is about learning from your own mistakes, and how will you ever learn if I keep bailing you out? There are some things you just need to figure out by yourself - "

"Enough games Helen, just take us back!"

"Sorry," she said in the most unapologetic voice imaginable. "I can't help you."

Cutter opened his mouth, ready to attempt to shout her into submission, but before he could get any words out, she stepped forwards quickly and he felt a blinding pain at the side of his head.

* * *

"Sorry Nick," Helen repeated as he fell to the floor heavily in front of her, unconscious. "I really am," she continued with a sigh, putting the gun she had used to knock him out back in her bag. "But you need to learn."

She knew she had to move quickly; Jenny was sure to be back any moment. She rooted in her bag again, pulling out her spare anomaly detector that was infinitely more powerful than the one Nick had, and she slid it under the bed. Now all she had to do was give it a few hours before she opened another anomaly for them. That should be plenty of time for Nick to have successfully destroyed his relationship. He was sure to think about what she had said and act upon it. Helen knew Nick like the back of her hand, and there was no way he'd ever purposely do anything to put Jenny at risk. He'd end it, without discussion or negotiation - that was just the way Nick functioned. And by the time the anomaly opened, the damage he'd cause between them would be irreparable.

Smiling to herself, Helen straightened up, glancing round at Nick one last time before she departed. However, she was only half way down the corridor when she spotted Jenny making her way back to the room, carefully carrying a brimming jug in her hands. With a flicker of panic, Helen averted her eyes, trying to keep her speed even as she passed her. However, she couldn't seem to resist glancing up at her. Jenny's eyes met hers, and she looked away before abruptly doing a double take, disbelief etched on her face.

"Helen?" she gasped, stopping dead at her side.

Without a word, Helen began to sprint down the rest of the corridor.

"Hey!" Jenny's voice shouted from behind her, and she heard her drop the jug with a clatter and run after her.

Helen thundered down the stairs, and heard Jenny do the same only seconds later. She finally reached the door and wrenched it open, flinging herself out and losing herself in the bustle of people.

* * *

Jenny stopped at the front door of the inn, panting for breath as she surveyed the crowds of people walking down the street, her eyes frantically searching for Helen. She was sure it had been her. However, there was no sign of her - the woman had the uncanny ability to disappear at the drop of a hat. Scowling to herself, Jenny slammed the door shut, ignoring all the staring eyes from the other residents, and ascended the stairs again. When she opened the door to their room, she let out an involuntary gasp; Cutter was lying on his side, obviously unconscious.

"Nick?" she shouted with panic, dropping to her knees next to him, shaking him roughly. "NICK!"

He mumbled something incoherent as he rolled onto his back, his eyes flickering open, looking unfocused.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice strained.

"Yeah . . ." he winced, his hand reaching up to the side of his head. "Helen - "

"I know, I've just seen her," Jenny informed him, taking his arm to slowly help him into a sitting position. "She ran off. What did she say to you?"

"Just . . . stuff . . ." he murmured unhelpfully.

"About getting home?" she probed hopefully.

"No . . ."

"Damn it Nick!" she scowled before she could stop herself, standing up in frustration. "She could have been our only shot of getting out of here, and you let her just let her go!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I was too busy getting knocked unconscious!" he retorted angrily, stumbling to his feet. "Where the hell were you?"

"I was trying to hydrate us!" she argued. "And I've just chased her out onto the street."

"Look, I did all I could - "

"Well now we're stuck here!" she yelled unreasonably. "Well done."

"And that's just about the worst thing that could ever happen to you isn't it?" he snapped, his nostrils flaring.

"What?"

He didn't reply, but instead stormed over to the door.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, the conversation not over as far as she was concerned.

"To get some air," he replied shortly. "And I don't have to explain my every little move to you!"

"Fine!" she shouted back as he opened the door. "Try not to fall down the stairs on your way out!"

He shot her a glare before slamming the door shut behind him. Sighing deeply with frustration, Jenny sank onto the end of he bed, biting her thumb as the anger left her. She hated the way men did that - just walk out, taking the argument with them. The only way to resolve something, in her opinion, was to have it out. With a groan, she lent back on the bed, her thoughts jumbled. Why had Helen been here? What had she said to Cutter? Whatever it had been, it had obviously shook him up by the look of him. But that was the thing about men like Cutter - he was nice to look at, and the whole brooding exterior was incredibly sexy, but when it came to relationship communication, he was hopeless.

* * *

Cutter walked out into the courtyard, still feeling dizzy from being knocked out, but with more pressing matters to think about, he decided not to dwell on it. He kicked at the dirt on the ground moodily as he continued walking, no clear destination in mind. What the hell was he going to do now? He hated to admit it, but Helen was right - he had put Jenny in danger with his irresponsibility. They couldn't continue on like they had been, or the consequences could be disastrous, for them and for the time line. He sunk down onto a roughly carved bench with his hands over his face. He knew that Jenny would just dismiss it if he talked to her about it - she was so bloody stubborn, with little or no reguard for her own safety for the most part. It was a trait she shared with him - a bold recklessness. It was one of those qualities that he found both endearing and frustrating about her. Claudia hadn't quite had that in common with her; she had preferred things to be organized and scheduled, considering everyone's safety to be of the upmost importance, and rightly so. She had been reasonable and listened when he had explained something to her. Jenny, however, was completely different. He knew that she'd just shrug off Helen's words, especially considering the source, and tell him to stop worrying. But this time, she stakes were too high.

His mind made up, he reluctantly got to his feet and trudged back to the room, hating what he had to do - what he had to say - but knowing it was the best thing for everyone.

* * *

Jenny snapped her head up when the door opened and Cutter walked in, looking incredibly grim.

"Hi," he sighed, his gaze not quite meeting her eye as he closed the door behind him.

"Hi," she said with an awkward smile, standing up and smoothing her hands over her hips. "Look, I'm sorry about snapping at you - "

"It doesn't matter," he replied quietly, shaking his head.

She nodded, although she was slightly confused by his body language. "We okay then?" she asked, approaching him slowly, studying his stony expression.

"Yeah," he sighed, looking down at the floor.

Bemused, she reached forward and brushed the hair out of his face. "What's wrong?"

He reached up and caught her arm, gently pushing it away. "There's something I've got to tell you," he said in the same monotone voice.

She narrowed her eyes, not liking the sound of that. One thing that Jenny prided herself on was the ability to read people, and right now, she could tell that whatever Cutter had to tell her didn't sit well with him. However, when no explanation seemed forthcoming, she felt the need to push him. "Tell me," she said simply, starting to panic slightly as she looked into his sad eyes.

He sighed deeply, as though bracing himself. "Look, this - me and you - this thing we've got going on . . . I - I don't think it's going to work out . . ."

Jenny felt like ice had been dropped in the pit of her stomach. Surely she couldn't be hearing him right . . .

"What?" she gapped. "Why?"

"Because . . ." he stammered, running his hand through his hair. "Because I don't feel the same way about you. I - I've tried to make myself feel differently, but I can't."

"You don't mean that," she stated, feeling her pulse increase to exponential levels.

"I - I do," he said, his voice cracking. "There's - there's someone else. I want someone else. And the truth of the matter is that you don't even compare to her."

Jenny felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. A big gapping hole seemed to appear in her chest, leaving her feeling empty.

"Um," she gulped when the shock dissipated, trying to rearrange her expression into an impassive one and hold her head high. "So, if you feel like that, why did you . . . what was last night about?"

"Well, when you offer it to me on a plate - " he mumbled cruelly.

Before she had even realised what she was doing, anger took over her and she had slapped him hard across the cheek so that his head flew to the side. She turned away from him, running the back of her shaking hand across her mouth as she tried to digest what he had just said to her. Her legs felt like jelly, forcing her to sink down onto the edge of the bed, determinedly not looking at him, instead staring blankly ahead.

After a long stunned silence, she felt him approach her and place an unsteady hand on her shoulder.

"You stay away from me," she said numbly.

He withdrew his hand quickly, and seemed to dither a moment behind her. Then, without a word, he walked out, closing the door softly behind him. Immediately, she clamped her hand over her mouth, stopping herself mid-sob.

_Don't you dare cry, _she thought to herself firmly. _Don't give him the satisfaction . . ._


	28. The explanation

Chapter 28

Shaking uncontrollably from head to toe, Cutter pushed his way blindly through the throngs of people walking down the street, not knowing where he was going or what he was planning to do now. His face stung from were he had received his well-deserved slap, a painful reminder of how unnecessarily cruel he had been. He shouldn't have said all those things to her; every time he blinked, the hurt look on her face popped up in front of his eyes, making his stomach disappear. He could have done it more gently. He should have, but when she started questioning him, he just panicked. The words were out of his mouth like projectile vomit before he could stop them, and now he was left with a burning guilt running through every vein in his body.

He pushed still further on until he spotted another alehouse. He promptly made his way inside, ordering the strongest spirit they had and knocking it back in one go, letting the fiery liquid trickle down his throat, hoping that it would lessen the throbbing pain inside him. It didn't of course. He slammed the mug back down on the bar, threw the bemused-looking man some coins, and left, not able to stay in the same place for too long.

Back in the faceless crowd, he thought about how unbearable their living situation was going to be now. God, if only they hadn't crossed that line in the first place, then everything would be okay. How could he have had such little self control? He hated himself. But he hated Helen even more.

All of a sudden, he stopped walking so abruptly that someone walked straight into his back. He barely registered being grumbled at by the rather angry woman who passed him. He had just realised something - he had just given up the best damn thing he had going for him just because of something Helen had said to him. He'd let that vile woman slither into his head and confuse him - she had played on his need to 'act the hero' . . . on his fear of something happening to Jenny. And he'd been well and truly caught.

Cursing to himself, he turned on his heel and sprinted back towards the inn, his heart thudding violently against his rib cage. He couldn't mess this up . . . he refused to. He and Jenny would work something out about the circumstances together. If he could get her to listen to him that is - it's not like he deserved it. But he refused to contemplate that .

There had to be a way for him to fix this.

* * *

Cutter didn't think he'd ever ran so fast in his life. He threw open the inn door so violently that he probably took three years off some poor dears life with the fright, bolted up the stairs and flung himself into the room, panting for breath. Jenny didn't look around; she was too busy stuffing things into Connor's bag.

"What are you doing?" he gasped, still struggling for breath.

"Leaving," she replied curtly, still refusing to look at him.

"What?" he gapped.

"Yes, I've left the anomaly detector with you," she continued in the same bland voice. "I'll let you know where I'm staying when I find somewhere."

"But - "

"And I've left you half the money from selling the ring, although it's unlikely to last much longer," she cut him off, still frantically packing her dresses and such into the small bag.

"But . . . but you can't leave . . ."

She let out a hollow laugh. "Did you really expect me to stay here with you after everything that's happened?"

"And what are you going to do when the money runs out?" he argued, his stomach squirming with the thought of her leaving him. "Work in a brothel?"

"I'd rather work as a whore there than stay here and be used as your's," she retorted cruelly, turning swiftly and barging past his shoulder.

"No, wait!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arm and spinning her round to face him.

He noticed with a pang that her eyes were slightly puffy as though she had been crying, although they were dry and narrowed with such contempt.

"Unless you've got a death wish," she began in a dangerous whisper. "Let go of me. Now."

"Look," he began, panicking to find the right words to make her stay. "I didn't mean any of the stuff I said. I was just trying to put you off me - "

She laughed coldly again. "If it makes you feel better, it worked very well - I can't even look at you anymore," she said, her voice breaking as she wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

She turned, flicking her hair over her shoulder and making to open the door, but he was too quick for her, slamming it shut before she could go.

"Just listen to me," he pleaded. "Please. Just five minutes. And if you still want to leave then I won't stop you, I promise."

She hesitated for a moment, looking torn between leaving and hearing him out. Eventually, it seemed that the latter won out, and she turned, leaning back against the door and folding her arms tight.

"Right . . ." he began shakily, removing his hand from the door now he was sure she wasn't about to run out. "The thing is . . . what I was trying to . . ."

She huffed loudly, apparently not impressed with his stammering excuses.

"The thing is that . . . you're a woman . . ." he stuttered lamely.

She gave him a very funny look, and he cringed inwardly.

"So, you're a woman - " he repeated, trying to get everything straight in his head before speaking.

"Well spotted," she interjected with cold sarcasm. "What gave me away?"

He ignored her and tried to continue as best he could. "You're a woman, and I'm a man - "

"Are you trying to tell me your gay?" she said, looking thoroughly confused.

"What - no!" he flushed. "Not at all - "

"Because you certainly weren't acting gay last night - "

"I'm not gay!" he protested hotly.

"Then what the hell are you talking about?" she demanded in a strained voice.

He sighed inwardly - this was much more difficult than he had anticipated.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it," he conceded, raising his arms in frustration. "You and me, what we did last night . . . it was wrong."

"Is this because of Mark? Because if it is - "

"No, it's not because of Mark. And it's not because it wasn't what I wanted. It's because we didn't think of the consequences!"

"What consequences?" she exclaimed, looking frustrated at the lack of sense he was talking.

However, before he had managed to form any reply, a dawning comprehension graced her face and she blushed heavily.

"Are you actually having the safe sex conversation with me?" she gapped in disbelief.

"Well . . ." he trailed off, giving a vague jerk of his head.

She laughed in incredulity, rubbing her hand over her forehead. "I - I don't believe this . . ." she stammered.

"Well, it was unsafe wasn't it?" he asked, feeling embarrassed for saying it.

"Unless you're implying that I've taken to manufacturing my own contraceptive pills in my spare time, then yes Cutter, it was unsafe."

"So then do you see why I said what I did?"

"No, I don't," she gapped, her eyes flashing. "You could have just talked to me about it instead of yelling!"

"I didn't yell!"

"You're yelling now!" she shouted, her eyes wide with disbelief.

They both fell silent for a moment, glaring at each other, breathing hard with the strain of arguing.

"Look Jenny," he began eventually in a calmer tone, ringing his hands together nervously. "What I said, about not feeling anything for you - "

Hurt flickered across her face and she squeezed her eyes together, shaking her head.

"I didn't mean it," he continued, feeling a familiar jolt of guilt. "In fact, it couldn't be further from the truth."

She glanced back up at him again, her expression becoming less stony.

"In fact," he breathed, his heart racing. "I love - ", the confession almost out when a strange and supremely loud bleeping noise echoed around the room, making both of them jump.

"What the - ?" Jenny exclaimed, putting her hands over her ears.

After exchanging a baffled look, Cutter dropped to his knees, searching for the source of the noise until his eyes rested on a red light flashing from under the darkness of the bed. He reached forward and grabbed whatever it was and pulled it out. It looked like some sort of advanced detector.

"Where did that come from?" Jenny gasped from next to him, looking over his shoulder at the device.

"Helen must have left it," Cutter reasoned numbly, trying to make sense of the flashing screen.

"Why would she do that?"

Cutter shrugged in reply, fiddling with the various knobs on the side of it. He finally succeeded in silencing the thing, but the location of the anomaly remained clear on the screen.

"Is there an anomaly?" Jenny asked in a tone that said she was hardly daring to believe it.

"Aye, about a mile away," he deduced. He looked up at her and saw his feelings of excitement and apprehension mirrored in her face. It looked like everything between them would have to go on the back burner for the time being. "Right . . . lets get going then."

"What if it's a trap?" she pointed out, voicing something he had been thinking himself. "This _is_ Helen we're talking about."

"It's worth a try though isn't it?" he sighed, although he knew very well that Helen would have never help them unless it benefitted her in some way, and he failed to see what she'd get out of them going home.

"Right," Jenny nodded in a resigned voice, looking as nervous as he felt. "Lets go."

* * *

**The end is in sight :D**

**And thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! I can't believe they've gone past a hundred! Wow - just wow :)**

**I'll update as often as I can x**


	29. An icy return

Chapter 29

Abby felt as though her legs had gone numb with the cold as she continued to trudge through the snow, Sarah and Connor either side of her and Becker taking up the rear of the group.

"Are you sure this is where Helen said she'd be?" Connor asked through chattering teeth. "It's not exactly peak park-going weather."

"Yeah," Abby replied shortly, pulling her coat tighter around herself to keep out the icy wind. "But she said she'd only keep the anomaly open if she gets the research first, so we better hurry."

"Do you really thing they'll come back?" Sarah interjected in a tight voice.

"They have to," Abby stated, unwilling to consider the alternative.

Without Cutter and Jenny, life in the ARC the past couple of months had been hell - the team had become sloppy, unorganised, and they all felt completely ambushed by each anomaly without the stabalising presence of their leaders. Abby hadn't realised it at the time, but now she knew all too well that they were the glue that held everyone together; sort of like the mum and dad of the team. Without them, the anomaly operation had gone to pot. The responsibility that the rest of them had been forced to shoulder in their long absence was so great that Abby found herself marveling at Cutter and Jenny's usual ability to keep everything in order and stay sane at the same time. That aside, it was almost painful how much Abby had missed them both - to go from seeing them every day to not seeing them at all had been hard to cope with.

"I don't trust Helen," Sarah interjected. "This all seems a bit too easy."

"Hey, I'm giving her copies of all my research!" Connor pointed out, sounding stung. "That's not easy for me. I feel like I'm making a deal with the devil or something."

"But I just don't see what she get's out of it," Sarah argued as they rounded a dense clump of snow-covered trees. "Surely she knows the anomalies better than anyone?"

"Maybe there's something she's missing?" Abby suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, maybe . . ." Sarah trailed off, sounding doubtful.

"There she is!" Connor exclaimed, pointing to a bush in the distance.

Abby looked up, feeling the familar mingled anger and frustration she usually associated with that woman. Helen was standing with her hands on her hips, dressed in strange, old-fashion clothes, surveying them boldly as they approached. That was one of the things that put Abby ill at ease around her - she looked at everyone as though they were below her; as though they were unworthy of her presence.

"It's about time," Helen said coldly as they reached her. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten our deal."

"Here," Connor said as he handed her a USB stick containing the information she had requested, the coolness of his voice very out-of-character. "It's got everything on it."

"And I'm supposed to take your word on that am I?" she drawled, her eyebrows raised as she studied the stick.

"You're going to have to," Abby retorted, hating every minute that she had to spend in her company. "Just like we have to take your word that Jenny and Cutter will come back through the anomaly in one piece. Where is the anomaly by the way?"

"Over there," Helen answered, nodding casually over to the other side of the bush.

Sure enough, the flicker of light could be seen about thirty feet away, glinting in the winter sun.

"Well, it's been a pleasure, as always," Helen continued abruptly, pocketing the USB and turning to leave. "Give Nick my best . . ."

"Hang on! Where are you going?" Connor shouted after her, clearly surprised.

"My work here is done," she shouted back in a mocking voice, not even doing them the courtesy of turning around as she spoke. "Take care!"

And with that she was gone, lost in the whiteness of the park.

"I really hate that woman," Sarah said with distaste as they rounded the particularly large bush. "She's a vile, narcissistic - "

But whatever else Sarah though Helen was remained unclear as she stopped dead mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open,and her hands frozen in mid-air. Abby glanced around at what she was looking at, and felt her heart jump to her throat.

The anomaly, the place where Jenny and Cutter were meant to be coming through momentarily, was glittering in the middle of a large frozen lake.

* * *

Jenny and Cutter walked in a stuffy silence, the awkwardness washing over them both as they pushed onwards. It was well into winter now, and Jenny pulled the heavy cloak she had purchased a couple of weeks previously around her tighter as the cold chill seemed to penetrate her skin. Cutter held the strange anomaly detector in his hands, glancing down at it every few minutes, probably to make sure they was going the right way, or as an excuse to keep his eyes everted for her. Either way, they didn't speak, which Jenny was thankful for; she didn't think she could stand another screaming match, especially with the added pressure of finding the anomaly before it closed. If they did get home, they'd discuss everything then. Although she would probably also have Mark to deal with if that was the case, and she had no clue what she was going to say to him; she had been so wrapped up in coming to terms with the fact that she'd probably be stuck in the past with Cutter for the rest of her natural life that she hadn't really thought about what she was going to do if they ever managed to find a way back. She had began to accept that she'd never see her fiancé again, and if she was honest with herself, it had been rather easy to let him go. Too easy.

Suddenly, Cutter stopped walking next to her, frowning at the screen of the detector.

"What?" she asked, breaking the silence for the first time.

He looked up and nodded towards something. "There," he said quietly.

She followed his eye line and her stomach clenched as her gaze rested on the flickering light that she was beginning to doubt she'd ever seen again. It was at the side of a hill in a large patch of fields which were a bit too out in the open for Jenny's comfort, but she was really in no position to complain. All of a sudden, she felt quite teary - could they really be going home?

"How do we know it'll lead to our time?" she queried, trying not to let her apprehension show through her voice.

"We don't," he stated simply. He must have realised that his tone wasn't very reassuring, as he glanced around and offered her a fake smile. "We'll be fine," he added in a soothing tone.

She nodded and they walked forward, probably slower than was wise, and stopped right in front of it.

"Nick - " Jenny said, hating how small and scared her voice sounded.

He reached forward and took her hand, entwining her fingers with his. "I know," he breathed, his eyes not moving from the anomaly.

Without another word, they both stepped through.

* * *

As soon as her foot touched the ground on the other side, Jenny knew something was wrong. She skidded in something slippery, only just managing to keep her footing, and from the way Cutter's hand tightened around her, he had experienced the same sensation. Her vision was clouded with the blinding anomaly light, which only cleared after a few steps forward. When her retina's adjusted to the new environment, she noticed with a jolt of surprise that they were in what looked like a snowy forest or park that seemed completely deserted.

"Jenny, don't move," Cutter said from beside her, panic audible in every syllable he spoke.

For a second, she couldn't fathom why he was panicking so much; it seemed like they were back in their own time after all. But then she felt the ground beneath her feet crack sightly, and with a prickle of fear, she realised that they were standing in the middle of a massive lake with a thin layer of ice on the top.

"Oh my God," she breathed, her hand crushing around Cutter's as she surveyed the frozen water with horror.

"CUTTER! JENNY!" several voices yelled in unison from what sounded like a great distance away.

They looked up and spotted Abby, Connor, Becker and Sarah waving frantically at them from over the other side of the lake. The overwhelming relief and joy Jenny felt at seeing them was overshadowed by the fact that she and Cutter were about two inches of ice away from plunging to a watery death.

"GET OFF THE ICE!" Abby's voice traveled over to them.

It's not like they needed telling that, but how they were actually going to manage to get off without falling through was a problem.

"Right, we split up," Jenny said to Cutter in a shaking voice, her mind slipping into survival mode. "Our combined weight will definitely break the ice," she reasoned.

He looked like he was about to argue with her, but she had already pulled her hand out of his and taken a few shaky steps away from him.

They walked slowly, treading each step carefully, Jenny hardly daring to breath as she continued to put one foot in front of the other. She chanced a half-glance up at the rest of the team, and saw that they were all waiting nervously for them. Sarah had her hands clasped together as though in prayer, and Connor bobbed next to her impatiently, fear etched on his features. Abby's hands were running through her platinum hair that contrasted greatly with the snowy surroundings. Becker had a worried frown on his face, and he shuffled from one foot to the other as though fighting the urge to run out and help them. Looking at their nerves made Jenny's own fear mount to dangerous proportions, so she forced herself to look back down at the ice.

Suddenly, she stepped onto a patch if wafer-thin ice; she could tell by the way it cracked under her foot that it wouldn't be able to support her weight. She was about to pull back a bit when the crack in the ice fractured. In what seemed like slow motion, her gaze met Cutter's and his eyes widened in sheer terror.

And then she felt herself falling and a searing cold shot through her body.

Darkness enveloped her.

* * *

Cutter's throat close over in complete terror, and he froze, completely paralysed with shock. One moment Jenny was a few feet from him, and the next she was gone. But she couldn't be . . .

The screams and shouts of the team from the side of the lake brought him out of his stupor violently, and he stumbled over to the hole in the ice, his legs not working properly. He heard the rest of them running over to him, all thoughts of their own safety forgotten, but he couldn't wait for them. His eyes frantically searched the lapping water for any sign of her, but there was nothing except impenetrable darkness.

"Cutter don't!" Connor's voice shouted, although he barely even registered his words.

He took a deep breath, trying not to imagine how cold the water was going to be, and before he could be stopped or pulled back, he dived.

His lungs seemed to freeze and his limbs seized up completely, the cold so all-consuming that for a second, he forgot where he was and why he was there; all he could think about was the agony that pierced every inch of him. The darkness closed in, and an eery stillness pushed against him. His mind was blank . . . he couldn't think . . . he was so numb that he couldn't feel . . .

Jenny.

Her image popped into his frozen brain, shocking his system, causing him to thrash slightly. He scanned the gloomy water, panic befuddling his mind. She couldn't have gone far; she had only fallen a second before . . .

Then he spotted her, floating a few feet below him. He kicked out, the exertion costing him all the effort in the world, and stretched out his arm. He grabbed her and tried to pull her up, but he couldn't - she was too heavy. This didn't make sense to him - she didn't particularly weigh much . . . then he realised that it was her cloak that was too heavy. Panicking, the need to take a breath overwhelming, his fingers fumbled at her neck to undo the lace. Painful seconds dragged by, and eventually he managed to rip the material away, freeing her. He couldn't bring himself to look at her face - he didn't want to see if she was unconscious, or . . .

He grabbed her around the waist and kicked out again. It was very slow work. The muscles in his legs ached from the exertion of propelling himself and dragging Jenny with him. He fixed his eyes skywards, determination overriding his tiredness -

His face finally broke the surface of the water and he gulped in a lungful of frozen air, his desperation for oxygen too great. Panting, he pulled Jenny up with him, one hand cupping her chin to keep her mouth above the water. Her eyes were closed and her forehead sported a large gash that was bleeding heavily. He noticed with a bolt of terror that her lips had a bluish tinge on them. The rest of the team were around him; the ice around the hole must have been thick enough to support them all. Shaking uncontrollably, he heaved Jenny up into Abby and Sarah's waiting arms.

"T-take h-her," he ordered, his teeth chattering violently as he struggled to keep himself afloat and get Jenny out of the water.

Once she was fully out, Cutter sank back down, his energy leaving him. He could have easily have passed out there and then, but he felt hands grab him underneath his arms and pulled him clean out of the water. As a coat was wrapped around him from an unknown source, he heard Abby speak three words that chilled his blood far more than any icy water could.

"She's not breathing."


	30. Back to reality

Chapter 30

Abby's hands shook as she pressed her fingers against Jenny's damp neck, trying in vain to find a pulse.

"Nothing," she gasped, her brain jumbled with panic and dread.

"We need to get her off the ice," Becker interjected gruffly, moving Abby and Sarah aside.

He pulled Jenny's arm around his neck and picked her up; her head lolled back and her soaking hair dripped water as he hurried her over to the side of the lake. Abby followed close behind him, whilst Sarah hung back to help Connor walk a trembling Cutter, who appeared to be in deep shock.

Becker set Jenny down carefully, and quickly pulled his coat off, easing it underneath her to protect her from the chill of the snowy ground. Abby wasted no more time; she fell to her knees next to her and placed her mouth over Jenny's freezing cold lips, giving her two rescue breaths. She paused for a moment, studying her for a reaction. When there was no response, she groaned, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sarah scurried over and sunk down next to Jenny's head, leaning forward and brushing the sopping wet hair out of her translucent face. They both exchanged a grim look before Abby clasped her hands together, compressing on Jenny's chest in a desperate attempt to expel the water from her lungs. She paused for a moment, heart hammering as she watched Sarah breathe into her mouth again.

"N-no sh-she can't b-be!" Cutter shouted, his words barely discernable for the shaking.

Sarah looked up at Abby and shook her head.

But Abby refused to give up - Jenny was strong. Too strong to die because of a bit of bloody thin ice. She started compressions again, pushing down as hard as she could get away with without breaking Jenny's ribs. She looked up at Sarah again, who took her que and breathed into Jenny's parted lips -

Jenny gagged suddenly, and Sarah pulled away abruptly, grabbing Jenny's shoulders and pushing her upwards to make it easier for her to breath. Coughing and spluttering, she opened her eyes, water spewing out if her mouth. Relief flooded through every vein in Abby's body as she pulled her coat off and placed it over Jenny.

"Oh thank God," Sarah breathed, hoisting Jenny's upper body onto her lap and hugging her from behind.

Cutter sank to his knees behind them, rubbing his trembling hands over his face, a relieved sound coming from his throat, and Connor let out a low whistle, running his hand through his hair.

Jenny was shaking violently, drawing great shuddering gasps, her eyes unfocused. Her face was white as marble, and her skin was as cold as death.

But she was alive.

* * *

It was evening, and the hospital was quiet, the blinds on the curtains closed and the artificial light on the ceiling casting a sallow glow on Jenny's skin, making her look incredibly ill and drawn. She was unconscious again; the doctors said it was possibly induced by her body as a chance for it to heal itself - a way for it to not waste unnecessary energy. She had severe hypothermia, a concussion, and stitches on her forehead were she had been knocked out on the ice. On the plus side, she had her own room while she recuperated, which Cutter was sure Lester had something to do with. The team had only just left, but he wasn't going to move until she woke up; he needed to see that she was okay, and the only way he was going to believe it is if she told him herself. He kept turning cold at the thought of what would have happened if he was unable to find her underneath the ice. He sniffed involuntarily and reached forward, taking her limp hand in his own and brushing his lips against her cool skin. He had been treated for mild hypothermia himself, but had fobbed off the doctors insistence that he needed to spend the night under observation, his need to see Jenny too great to wait for faffing medics to give him the all clear. Now that he was warmed up, he felt fine - physically anyway. Emotionally however, his nerves were shot. The image of Jenny's blue-tainted lips was going to stay with him for a long time.

He didn't move his anxious gaze from her face, each movement she made in her sleep making his heart jump. It was only when he heard the clicking of heels down the corridor and a familiar snobby voice that he straightened up.

" - I can't believe that it took you all this time to contact me to inform me that my daughter was safe. Honestly, I'm surrounded by incompetent people - " the cold female voice snapped.

"We wanted to make sure she was stabalised before you saw her Mrs Lewis," Lester's simpering voice chimed, sounding closer now.

Lester had explained the cover story to Cutter about how they were kidnaped by a terrorist organisation, which he had barely took in, but nodded along anyway. He knew that Lester had ideally wanted Jenny to regain consciousness before he told her family she was safe to give himself time to explain the story to her. However, it seemed that it was going to take longer than first expected for her to wake up, so he had no choice but to get in contact with them, and now, it seemed, he was taking the wrath for it.

"And what if something had happened to her, hmm? Would you have waited until after the funeral to tell me she had died?" Mrs Lewis snapped as they both entered the room.

"That's not the case at all - " Lester insisted, looking throughly ambushed.

Jenny's mother paused at the door, her gaze traveling over her daughter, not a hint of a reaction on her face. Then, finally, her eyes rested on Cutter, and she narrowed them slightly.

"Professor Cutter, is it?" she asked drily.

"Aye," he nodded quietly.

She surveyed him coldly for a second. "Could I perhaps have a word with you Professor? In private?"

"Um . . . yes, of course," he said, slightly taken aback, but he followed her outside nonetheless, closing the door behind him.

She turned to face him, a stern look on the features that were so like Jenny's. It was actually quite startling how much she resembled her daughter; same hair, same bone structure - even the same eyes, although they were not soft and warm like Jenny's, but cold and emotionless. She stepped right into his personal space, taking him aback slightly.

"I don't know what the hell has happened here," she began, her icy voice making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. "All I know is that my daughter is lying unconscious in a hospital bed right now, and you've got something to do with it."

"Mrs Lewis - " he interjected, about to defend himself, but she cut him off.

"Ever since she's gotten involved with you and your people, it's been nothing but trouble," she whispered dangerously, her eyes flashing. "She's running out on her engagement party, and jilting her fiancé. She's up and she's down, and it's all because of you."

"I - "

"You're confusing her," she stated, her distaste for him clear in every word she spoke. "I have no idea why she would look twice at you, but clearly she has, and it stops now. I want you to leave her alone, do you understand me?"

"But - "

"She was happy before she met you," she spat, obviously not liking him interrupting her.

"And how would you know?" Cutter burst out, his anger reaching a threshold. "Did you ever ask her if she was happy? Did you even care? No you didn't. All you cared about was that she married someone rich under the pretense of family obligation. You didn't once consider that it wasn't what she wanted - "

"How dare you - !"

"No, how dare you!" Cutter interrupted, unable to stop his rant now he'd started. "You don't care if she's stuck in an unhappy marriage - you just want her to turn into a mini version of you. But she's nothing like you, believe me.

"I want her to have a good life - "

"Oh yeah? Well don't let her near death experience ruin your plans then," he retorted, his voice sagging with sarcasm. "Maybe before you start lecturing me about confusing her, you should get in there to be with your daughter, wait for to wake up, and ask her what she wants. She nearly died, for god's sake, but all you care about is trying to rearrange her marriage again!"

"Get out!" she snarled, her eyes wide with anger. "And if I see you back here, I'll get you thrown out by security."

"It's been a pleasure talking to you Mam," he nodded sarcastically. "I know you're anxious to get back in there and destroy your daughter's life some more."

She opened her mouth to respond, but he had already turned on his heel, blood pounding in his ears as he marched away.

* * *

Felicity Lewis watched the Professor storm off down the corridor, an uncomfortable knot clenching in her stomach. She batted it away immediately - what did that man know about her and her daughters relationship? It's not like he even knew Jenny properly. She turned and made her way back into the room, noticing that James Lester was still hovering next to Jennifer's bed, watching her with open concern.

"Leave me," she snapped, waving her hand to dismiss him.

He looked as though he was going to argue, but though better of it, passing her with a disgruntled look on his face. She waited until the door snapped shut before she approached Jennifer's bed slowly. Since the girl was twelve, Felicity had never seen her without makeup on; in short, she had never seen her look any less than her best. But now . . . she looked terrible. Her face was paler than she'd ever seen it, and she looked as though she had lost an extraordinary amount of weight in a short space of time.

Hesitantly, Felicity reached down and brushed the hair back gently from her daughter's face.

"What have you gotten yourself into Jennifer," she whispered, knowing that she couldn't hear her, but feeling the need to fill the silence anyway. She took her hand and looked down at her with a frown. "Your father and Mark were away on business trips," she continued, struggling to keep her voice even. "But I've called them, and they're on their way back. And Christopher is on route as well. Everyone's really anxious to see you . . ." she trailed off, suddenly feeling ridiculous talking to an unconscious person.

As she continued to stare at her, her mind was transported back to the time when Jennifer was six, and she had a particularly bad case of the flu. Felicity had sat up with her for three nights on the run, worried about her high fever. She had never been sick before. She looked quite similar now to how she did back then . . . All of a sudden, it was all too much. She put the back of her hand up against her mouth, muffling a sob as the thoughts of what Jennifer might have been through the past couple of months surfaced. She doubled over, sinking into the seat next to the bed, shaking with sobs, thinking how close she'd come to never seeing her daughter again.

Eventually, she composed herself, taking a deep breath. She straightened up with a sniff and placed her hand on Jennifer's forehead, being careful to avoid her stitches. "I know I haven't exactly been the greatest mum in the world," she spoke in a low, trembling voice. "But you're always so bloody stubborn . . . in fact, you remind me a great deal of myself when I was your age. And I nearly threw everything I had away for a cheap thrill, and I don't want that to happen to you. I just want you to be secure . . ." she trailed off again, swallowing painfully.

There was no way she was going to let her daughter settle for that god-awful Cutter man then when she deserved so much better. She hadn't attended the most prestigious schools in the country and ruthlessly worked her way up her career ladder only to end up being the wife of a middle-aged Professor who's yearly salary was probably less than the amount her shoes cost! Felicity knew that she'd regret it, just like she would have done herself if she'd have followed her heart instead of her head all those years ago.

There were more important things in life than love.


	31. The hospital visits

Chapter 31

"Mother, I don't need another pillow!" Jenny snapped for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Nonsense," her mum replied, waving her hand airily. "Your back needs more support."

"My back has enough support!"

"Your back can never have enough support," she retorted in a tone that clearly said the matter was settled.

Jenny huffed in aspiration and hopelessly leaned back against the already overflowing pile of pillows, the will to argue any further leaving her.

"You would think they'd have a better quality of pillows here," her mother continued with a disapproving expression, busy stuffing another pillow into a white case.

"It's a hospital mother, not a five star hotel," Jenny sighed, her thumb and forefinger on the bridge of her nose and her eyes close.

She had only regained consciousness a few hours previously, and she felt incredibly spaced out from whatever medication she was on - she didn't know what it was, but she knew it was good. She didn't feel any pain, just an overwhelming tiredness and a bizarre out of body sensation. All she wanted to do was sink back down into the stiff hospital bed and sleep for eternity, but her mother continued fussing around her, making it impossible for her to relax. It was grinding on her last nerve. After a brief 'thank God you're okay' was exchanged between them, which in itself was a bit too touchy-feely for Jenny's liking, her relief upon seeing her mum for the first time in months had dissipated rapidly, to be replaced with the familiar frustrated, tense feeling she always associated with their encounters.

Lester had been by a while ago, asking to speak to Jenny alone for a few moments, and she had practically had to beg her mother to leave the room, which she eventually agreed to reluctantly. He had filled her in on the cover story she was supposed to comply with, and had briefly explained about her being pulled out of the ice. She had been taken aback to say the least when he informed her that yet again, Cutter had rescued her, risking his own life in the process. It only reminded her of the though she'd had as soon as she'd opened her eyes - where was Nick? It'd been one of the first questions she asked her mother when she woke up, but she had brushed the matter aside impatiently. Jenny she wanted to see him; to thank him, to talk to him, to tell him that in reguards to her feelings, nothing had changed. However, when she had casually asked Lester where he was, he had shrugged, making a sarcastic comment about how he didn't have a tracking device on him, although he thought it might be a good idea to consider implanting one. Jenny hated to admit it to herself, but a tiny part of her was rather put out that Cutter hadn't been there when she woke up - had he not cared enough about her to see if she was okay? Lester had left with a quick semi-warm pleasantry that she should get well soon, although she was sure she could detect the subtle hinting that he expected her back at work sooner rather than later. As soon as he had exited, he had left her at the mercy of her mother.

She had informed her that her father, Mark and Chris were on their way, which made her squirm uncomfortably - she couldn't wait to see her brother of course, and she'd even missed her father, but she had no desire to see Mark at all. She couldn't face him, not after what had happened between her and Cutter. How could she look her fiancé in the eye after she'd been with someone else only the night before?

"I know it's not a five star hotel Jennifer," her mother scoffed, piercing her thoughts as she plumped up the pillow in an unusually domesticated manner that she had never displayed before. "But these pillows should be as clean as the ones in a hotel."

"To be fair, they probably are cleaner - at least nobody has sex on hospital pillows," Jenny said, unable to resist the obvious joke there, and the drugs probably making her more brazen that she would normally be.

"Well that's about as an unpleasant a thing that I've ever heard!"

"I was joking mother," she sighed hopelessly.

"I've never enjoyed your dark sense of humour Jennifer, it's a very unattractive quality to work blue," her mother tutted with a roll of her eyes.

"God give me strength," Jenny mumbled under her breath, rubbing her hand over her temple.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Jenny stated through gritted teeth.

A very welcome interruption came in the form of Chris, who burst through the door, looking completely out of breath, but grinning from ear to ear.

"Thank God," he breathed, striding over and pulling Jenny into a rib-cracking one armed hug.

"Oh - okay," she smiled, hugging him back as hard as she could summon the energy for. "I take it you missed me then?"

"No, not really," he joked, the happiness evident in his voice.

"Don't crowd her too much, Christopher, she's still very sensitive," Jenny's mother interjected, spectacularly ruining the moment.

They broke apart, Jenny widening her eyes at her brother to indicate that her mum was driving her crazy.

"I think I'm going to speak to the nurse about getting some more pillow cases," her mother continued, sounding distracted. "These ones seem a bit musty . . ."

"Help me," Jenny mouthed silently to Chris, who cleared his throat loudly, looking throughly amused.

"Um, mum? Why don't you go and call dad again and see when he's getting here?" he suggested. "I'm sure Jenny's really anxious to see him - "

"Yes, I really am," Jenny interjected with a frantic nod, playing along.

"Alright," he mother shrugged. "Can I get you anything else Jennifer?"

"Um . . . I'd love a coffee?" Jenny stammered, surprised that her mum would offer such a kind gesture.

"Okay," she nodded, her heels clicking as she made her way to the door. "I'll be right back - "

"Oh, take your time," Jenny said with a fake smile, which vanished as soon as her mum disappeared around the corner. "God, I've been alone with her for ages!" she scowled at Chris, slamming herself back down on the pillows. "All I want to do is go back to sleep!"

"Sorry," he grimaced apologetically, perching on the side of her bed.

"And is she taking some different medication or something? She's gone barmy! She's developed an obsession with bloody pillows! That's all I've heard about for hours!"

"Well, she's relieved to have you back, and she's probably not sure how to express it," Chris reasoned.

Jenny snorted in way of a reply.

"Oh come on, she _is _your mother," Chris pointed out in a ringing tone.

"Hmm, I want tests done to prove that," Jenny mumbled sarcastically.

"She's not so bad . . ."

Jenny laughed in disbelief. "No, she's not so bad to you. We grew up in completely different households. In yours, you were the boy wonder, and in mine, I was the anti-Christ - "

"Well, you did go a bit wild," Chris reminded her with a slight smile.

"That's beside the point - " she scoffed.

"Anyway, enough about mum," Chris interjected, reaching forward and taking her hand, looking down at her with a concerned frown. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," she sighed, reaching up and touching her tender head. He raised a doubtful eyebrow, telling her he didn't believe that for a minute. "A little tired," she admitted eventually. "And I feel a bit dopey on the drugs if I'm honest."

"Mum said you had hypothermia and a concussion - "

"I'm sure I'll survive," Jenny interjected with a weak smile, not liking anyone - even her brother - getting the mistaken idea that she needed to be mollycoddled.

He ran his hand across his forehead, looking worried. "I was beginning to think the anomaly was never going to open up again - "

"SSSSHH!" Jenny snapped immediately, giving him a horrified look as she swung her legs off the bed and marched over to slam the door shut, ignoring the sudden dizziness she felt. "Are you crazy?" she gapped as she turned back to him. "You can't go shouting your mouth off about anomalies!"

"Sorry - "

"God!" she continued, shoving him in the arm as she got back into bed. "Are you trying to get us both shot?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that I still can't believe that you tackle them on a daily basis," he said, looking impressed.

"How do you know about them anyway?"

"That Lester man explained it all to me," Chris informed her. "He's not the nicest man in the world is he?"

"Far from it," Jenny agreed with a rye smile. "I can't believe he told you."

"Well I didn't really give him much of a choice," he shrugged. "He needed me to go along with the kidnap story, and I said I wouldn't unless he told me everything."

"You shouldn't have done that," Jenny sighed, feeling a pang of annoyance. "This is my job . . . these people are my colleagues . . ."

"I know, but I was worried about you," he argued. "You would have done the same in my shoes."

"I suppose," she mumbled, seeing his point, but still not liking the fact that now knew about her line of work.

"So where did you end up?" he asked unexpectedly, sounding curious.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she answered cryptically, reclining back again with tiredness.

"After what I saw, I'm willing to believe anything - " he began, but he was cut off by the door opening again. But it wasn't her mother.

It was Mark.

Jenny felt the pleasant numbness her medication had caused fall away in an instant to be replaced with a crushing guilt and an uncomfortable awkwardness as she looked up at the man who she had promised herself to. He looked as though he had aged several years in merely a couple of months; he looked tired and harassed, and as though he had lost quite a bit of weight. He stood, holding the door half open, looking temporarily speechless as his eyes studied her.

"Jen," he exhaled, his relief evident as he crossed the room and put his arms around her, pulling her gently against his chest, and kissing her hair desperately.

Not knowing what to do, she froze, torn between the natural instinct to hug back, and her desire to distance herself from him. Eventually, she found herself leaning into him, her arm clinging to him, lost up in the eagerness of his greeting. She still cared about him after all, and he represented the feeling of home for her; of her old life that she was now expected to slip back into.

"I missed you so much," he said, his voice cracking as though he was crying.

"I missed you too," she lied, purposely turning her face away from him incase he read her thoughts through her eyes.

"I'll give you two some alone time," Chris said with a small smile, getting up and backing out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

They broke apart, and Mark took her face in his hands, positively beaming at her. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Me too," she relied quietly; well that part was truthful at least.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and sat back onto the chair next to her bed, running a hand over his weary-looking face.

"What happened?" he demanded, straightening up as he composed himself. "I know you were kidnaped, but why? Where did they take you?"

"I'm not really supposed to talk about it," she answered shortly, knowing that he was starting to notice her less-than-enthusiastic manner at his arrival.

He frowned slightly. "But you're okay? They didn't hurt you?"

"I'd really rather not discuss it right now," she said shakily, finding it incredibly difficult to look into his eyes incase he saw the guilt there.

He paused for a moment, his gaze traveling all over her face, before he sighed, clapping his hands together. "You're right - we won't talk about it any more. We'll just look to the future. We can re-do the wedding as soon as you're well. We could even elope if you want?"

She remained silent, her eyes fixated at her clasped hands, her heart thudding in her chest. She didn't want to discuss this now - she was confused, in pain, and oh so tired, and it was neither the time, nor the place. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his smile falter.

"Were - were you taken with that Cutter bloke? That's what Lester said?" he asked in an uneven tone.

After a slight pause, she nodded, unable to trust herself to speak.

He gulped and dropped his head in a resined manner, squeezing his eyes shut. _He knew._ After a few moments of tense silence, he unexpectedly reached forwards and took her hand gently.

"Jen?" he said in a low voice. "If - if you've done something . . ."

Her eyes flew up to meet his, her stomach disappearing, making her feel nauseous.

"If you've done something you regret . . ." he continued, his voice shaking with either anger or sadness. "We can just put it behind us. We can just start afresh from now."

Her heart went out to him as she looked into his pleading eyes, willing her to say something. She swallowed painfully and broke their eye contact.

"I'm very tired," she said quietly, moving her hand so it no longer rested in his. "Maybe we could just talk about this when I get home in a few days?"

He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, eventually, he stood up with a sniff, placing a clumsy kiss on her cheek. "I'll send some of your things in with your mother," he said in a wavering voice as he straightened up.

"Thanks," she replied as he made his way over to the door.

He hesitated for a few seconds, his hand hovering over the doorknob, as though he wanted to say something. "I do love you Jen," he whispered in a cracked voice, not looking around at her as he spoke.

Jenny squeezed her lips together and looked away from him, the guilt washing over her like a wave as he left without another word. She lay back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling with watery eyes. It wasn't even so much the fact that he knew she'd cheated that upset her so much. It was his line 'if you've done something you regret' that had gotten to her. Because, despite the guilt she felt at her actions, she didn't regret starting a relationship with Cutter - in fact, if she could go back in time and do it again, she would do in a heart beat.

She wondered what that said about her as a person.


	32. The phone call

Chapter 32

Cutter sat slouched on the couch in his house, the television flickering pointlessly in the background. Some dreary period drama was on, but he was paying no attention to it, nor anything else in the room accept the glass of strong whiskey clasped in his hands. Ever since he had got back from the hospital three days previously, he had no idea what to do with himself - he didn't know what to wear, what to eat, what to do to entertain himself. He had become so used to wearing the baggy pants and shirts, and to eating the horrid broth, and more importantly, he had become used to spending all his time with Jenny. Well, become dependent on it was probably a more accurate way of putting it. He missed terribly. Even when they had sat in silence in their room, he still had enjoyed just being in her presence, loving every second that he spent with her. In fact, a part of him wished they had never found a way back from the past - at least then he could spend every moment of the day with her again.

He ran his hand over his face and took a particularly large gulp of whiskey, the liquid igniting a fire down his throat as it went. As he gritted his teeth against the sensation, he couldn't help his mind wondering to the possibilities that might have occurred if they hadn't stepped back through the anomaly - if they would have stayed in the past for the rest of their natural lives. Would they have became a fully fledged couple? Maybe he could have got himself a job, and they could have bought a house together . . . perhaps they would have even had a few children . . .

_Stop it, _he thought to himself firmly, closing his eyes against the terrible feeling of emptiness he felt. _There's no point in thinking like that. _

The truth of the matter was that now they were back in their own time, slipping back in their own routines, he doubted very much he'd fit into her life. He had a burning hope that what had started between them wasn't just about the loneliness they had both felt, or just because she wanted to occupy herself, but he had never been one to rely on hope - he had learnt that the hard way. He and Jenny had nothing in common, except the ARC of course. He was a scruffy, craggy academic that wasn't exactly getting any younger. She on the other hand was beautiful, young, and vibrant, who even when they were living in the sixteenth century didn't have a hair out of place most of the time - she was just that type of woman. Why would she want to tie herself to someone who was so dreary that he'd probably end up putting out that fieriness in her that he loved so much?

_Then again, _that small and annoyingly optimistic part of his brain chimed in. _She was the one who had initiated things between them. He had been about to say no until . . ._

Groaning in frustration, he slammed his glass down on the table harder than was really necessary. Just because she had started things back when she had thought she was going to be trapped with him for the rest of her life, it didn't mean that she would think twice about getting back together with her fiancé now that they were back. And Cutter couldn't blame her - not really. She deserved better, just like her mother had said.

Still . . .

Jenny had changed more in the last two months than most people did all their lives. Maybe she did want different things now? Surely Cutter owed it to himself to find out, even if she turned him down.

His mind made up, he reached over and picked up his house phone, dialing her number and hoping that she hadn't replaced her mobile since she had got back. Or god-forbid that her phone was at home with Mark. Then again, it's not like he had any other way to contact her. After that rather heated run-in with her mum, he wasn't very keen on the idea of visiting her in the hospital again

With trepidation, he lifted the phone up to it's ear, each ring tone seeming to last an age. Eventually, some one answered.

But it wasn't Jenny.

"Hello, Jennifer Lewis's phone," said the cold voice that Cutter knew all to well.

It was Jenny's mother. Dammit!

"Hello, is Jenny there?" he asked hopefully.

The voice went silent for a moment - she obviously knew by his accent who it was.

"No, she's not," the voice answered icily. "She's been discharged and she's gone home with her _fiancé_," she put particular emphasis on the last word. "I'm here to pick up all her things for her. But I wouldn't bother visiting her. She and Mark have a lot of catching up to do."

Cutter's blood ran cold and the hand that held the phone to his ear shook slightly. Even though it was what he had expected deep down, it was still incredibly painful to hear, especially from the cold mocking voice of Felicity Lewis.

"Was there anything else Professor?" she asked in a fake polite voice.

"No, that's all," he replied shortly, annoyed that his voice trembled - he didn't want to show any weakness to that woman.

"Okay then," she said cheerfully. "Oh, and Professor?"

He paused, about to put the phone down.

"My daughter's been through enough. Don't contact her again."

Scowling, he hung up and flung the phone onto the coffee table with such force that it smashed into several pieces that scattered across the wood.

* * *

Jenny rounded the corner, feeling much better now that she was changed out of that ridiculous hospital gown. As she reached her room, her mother's voice became discernable through the general bustle of hospital nosie - it sounded like she was speaking to someone, and so Jenny stopped at the entrance of her room, listening intently.

" . . . Don't contact her again . . ." she heard her say.

Into _her_ mobile.

"Mum?" Jenny said, feeling confused as she watched her hang up and turn, looking surprised to find Jenny watching her. "Who was that?"

"No one darling," she replied, looking uncomfortable as she set the mobile down on the dresser. She hitched a smile on her face. "You look much better now that you're out of that unflattering gown - "

Jenny studied her mothers face, recognising the expression she usually wore herself when she was lying. Without a word, she walked over and snatched her mobile up off the table, immediately checking her call history.

"Jennifer - " her mum began, but Jenny cut her off by letting out a cold, disbelieving laugh.

It had been Nick who had called.

She looked up into her mother's emotionless face, shaking her head in disbelief.

"How - how dare you," she stammered in shock. "What gives you the right to decide who I should or shouldn't speak to?"

"It's for your own good darling - "

With a deep scowl, Jenny turned her back on her, dialing Cutter's number, but all she got was a voice saying that it had not been possible to connect the call.

"Oh great mother!" she burst out, hanging up and throwing her phone on the bed hard. "Just great! What did you tell him?"

"Nothing that he didn't need to hear," she replied, sounding unconcerned.

Again, Jenny laughed harshly, chiding herself for underestimating her mothers controlling and interfering tendencies.

"Jennifer, I'm doing this to protect you," she continued in a gentle tone as though she was explaining to a petulant child why they couldn't have a second helping of cake. "I know what men like him are like. They're toxic bachelors that amuse themselves by bedding vulnerable, pretty young women like yourself."

"I'm not vulnerable!" Jenny snapped.

"And when your life is completely destroyed, and your fiancé gone, he'll move onto the next bit of skirt that bats her eyelashes at him, and you'll be left with nothing."

"Mother, this isn't a Martina Cole novel!' Jenny shouted, feeling anger bubble in the pit of her stomach. "It's real life. He's not like that. You don't know him."

"No I don't," she agreed in a tone that clearly showed her distaste as the notion. "But I do know Mark. And he's been worried sick about you for two months. He's been frantic - we all have. And you're going to repay him by leaving him for someone like Cutter?"

Jenny looked away, running her fingers through her hair, feeling the guilt cut her yet again. She knew it was cruel to leave Mark when he had waited for her all this time, but she couldn't help the way she felt. Or more accurately, she couldn't help the way she didn't feel.

"I want you to have the best in life you can," her mother continued softly, clearly thinking she'd won that particular argument.

Jenny spun back round. "What, like you do you mean?" she laughed cruelly.

"Well yes - "

"But that's the problem mother - I don't want your life," Jenny said, being brutally honest. "You can stand there and tell me that you've had a happy life, but the truth is that you're not happy. You've never been happy."

"That's not true - "

"Oh no?" Jenny said, unable to keep the cold amusement out of her voice. "When was the last time you smiled mother? When was the last time you laughed? When was the last time you and dad kissed? Hugged even?"

"We're not a bunch of adolescents Jennifer - " she scoffed, but by the way she dropped her usually proudly held head, the answer was obvious.

"See that's what I thought," Jenny said quietly. "You married dad for money and because your family wanted you to, not because you loved him."

"How dare you!" she snapped, her dark eyes narrowing malevolently. "I do love your father!"

"No, you forced yourself to love him!" Jenny argued, pointing an accusing finger at her. "And now you want me to do the same with Mark. Well I'm sorry mother, but I have no intention of wasting my life with someone I don't love just because you want me to. I'm not going to let myself become dead inside like you."

An uncharacteristic hurt look flashed across her mother's face, and despite the fact she knew she deserved it, Jenny felt a pang of guilt that she had hurt her feelings.

"Look," Jenny began, forcing her voice back to politeness. "I know that you want the best for me. You want me to have a good life - I get that. But you've got to understand . . . I don't want your life. I don't need to marry for money - I make enough of my own."

"So what's your great plan then Jennifer?" her mother smirked coldly. "Hm? You're going to marry someone ten years older than you? Pop out a few kids? Work like a dog for the rest of your life?" she questioned, her tone suggesting that it was the most preposterous thing in the world.

"You know, I'm you daughter - you should be telling me to do what makes me happy, not trying to tie me into a dead end marriage!"

"You're just doing this to rebel," her mother accused, flinging her arms up in frustration. "You hate the idea of marrying someone your father and I approve of, so you're trying to kill us by threatening to run off with a Professor!"

"God, will you listen to yourself?" Jenny gapped. "Maybe I was some horrible uncontrollable teenager, but that was a long time ago. I'm a grown woman, and I know what I want. And it's not the life you so graciously planned out for me."

Silence followed her words and they both glared at each other for a few moments before her mother spoke again.

"I'm not saying that you have to be faithful to Mark for the rest of your life," she explained slowly and deliberately. "Just marry him, and then when things settle down, you can still have your Professor every now and then - "

Jenny laughed, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Are you actually saying this to me?"

"Well that way you've got the best of both worlds. It might not be ideal, but that's real life - " she continued, sounding cold and unconcerned.

"You're sick, you know that? You need help!" Jenny breathed angrily. "I can't believe your advocating me sleeping around when I'm _married!"_

"See, this is your problem," her mother accused bitterly. "Ever since you started this job, you've become too emotional."

"I'm not listening to this any more," Jenny snapped, picking up her coat from the chair and pulling it on.

"You're not supposed to go until you're discharged," she pointed out, glancing up at the clock over the door. "You're not due to leave until later."

Jenny replied with a dirty look as she flicked her hair out of her coat and picked up her bag, making to leave.

"Jennifer," she said in a dangerous voice, stopping her in her tracks as she reached the door. "If you leave Mark and go to that man, you and I are done."

Jenny froze as the words cut through her like a knife. She turned slowly, her mouth slightly open in shock. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Jenny still unable to believe that she would actually cut her out of her life for finishing things with Mark. Then again, why was she surprised? Her mother had showed her nothing but a cool detachment or open hostility her entire life. Why should now be any different?

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Jenny said, her voice cracking as she turned and stormed off, her heels clicking on the floor almost as loudly as her heart thudded against her ribs.

* * *

**Next chapter's the last I'm afraid :( god, this is longest story I've ever done I think! **

**Hopefully, I'll update later tonight so that's it's all done and dusted before I start uni tomorrow :)**


	33. Secrets and admissions

Chapter 33

Mark stumbled over to the kitchen again, refilling his glass of red wine so clumsily that it slopped over the kitchen counter slightly. Not caring about the mess, he picked up the glass and swigged a big mouthful back, rolling it around to feel the body against his tongue. He tried to keep his mind blank and let the alcohol numb his feelings, but ever since he had started drinking a couple of hours ago, he had gotten more and more depressed. Jenny was due home later today. And he knew exactly what was going to happen when she arrived - she was going to end it. He had felt her chill when he had visited her - he knew that she no longer felt anything for him. And by the slightly ashamed look in her eye, she had been with someone else - most likely that Cutter bloke. As soon as his face popped up in his head, the bubble of anger in his stomach burst and with a yell, he flung his glass against the fridge. It smashed and it's content flew everywhere, dripping down the walls like blood.

_How could she do this to me!_ he thought to himself for the hundredth time. _We were about to be married - how could she pick someone else over me? Especially some middle-aged Professor with a face full of stubble and an accent that makes his words barely recognisable!_

He shuddered as images started whirling through his brain; her kissing him with her soft lips, him running his hands over her body . . . it made him feel sick to think about. He knew he hadn't exactly been the dotting husband-to-be, but still, there had never been anyone he had been with to make him even considered leaving a woman like Jenny for. Clearly, he couldn't say the same thing about her - she had obviously met someone who made her feel differently. And it bloody hurt.

The doorbell rang, and he huffed, looking around at the mess he'd just made, and hoping as he made his way to answer it that it wasn't anyone important. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he opened the door to be confronted with Olivia.

"What do you want?" he muttered, walking away but leaving the door open so she could follow.

"I heard that Jenny was back," she answered coldly, shutting to door behind herself and walking behind him into the living room. "How is she?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I've only seen her once."

"What? Why?" she asked, looking surprised.

"Because she doesn't want me visiting her," he admitted, feeling more and more drunk with each passing second.

"She doesn't know does she?" she asked in a worried tone. "About us?"

"No, but it wouldn't matter anyway," he slurred, surprised that he found it rather nice to be able to talk to someone about it. "She's going to leave me, I can tell."

"Why would she do that?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Because she wants her Professor man," he said bitterly, his head spinning with the two bottles of wine he'd consumed. "She must be looking to rough it."

"She said this to you?"

"She didn't have to. It's written all over her face."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, shaking her head. "I really am."

Mark chuckled coldly. "Yeah right, sure you are," he muttered sarcastically.

"I am," she repeated, moving closer to him and raising her gaze to meet his. "I don't want to see you hurt," she added, raising her hand and brushing his hair back tenderly.

"Olivia, don't," he breathed, although he couldn't for the life of him push her away. It felt nice, after feeling rejected by Jenny, to have the attention of someone who really wants him.

"Why not?" she whispered, her lips very close to his own. "You said it yourself she's going to finish things."

"I don't know that for certain," he replied shakily, looking down at her slightly parted lips.

"Well that's good enough for me," she breathed, closing the distance between them and catching his lips in her own.

Mark allowed his mind to go black, and welcomed the new feelings being evoked in him that pushed aside the hollow emptiness he had been carrying around with him since seeing Jenny.

Ignoring the usual feeling of guilt, he ripped at her blouse with one hand, the other desperately fumbling at his fly as she pulled him over to the sofa, their lips still locked.

* * *

"Thank you," Jenny smiled at the taxi driver, handing him a note. "Keep the change."

"Cheers Mam," he nodded, making her feel a prickle of annoyance as she stepped out of the car - she hated being called 'Mam'. It made her feel about fifty years old.

As the cab pulled away, she stood outside her house, staring up at it nervously. It was so odd to be there; it felt both familiar and strange at the same time. So adjusted was she to life in the inn that it felt like she was looking up at someone else's home; someone else's life. She gulped anxiously, and hurried up the steps before she had a chance to put it off any longer.

_Just tell him how you feel, and then that's that . . . just come out with it . . . no beating around the bush . . . no stringing him along . . . _

She had repeated that particular line to herself the entire taxi journey, so much so that it had become like a mantra to her. She didn't want this dragged out; she didn't want things to turn nasty. She was going to tell him that she was moving out, and that was the end of it. She was sure he was aware of what she was going to tell him anyway judging by the look on his face as he left the hospital a few days previously, but still, that didn't make what she was about to do any easier. It was only her eagerness to see Nick and straighten things out with him that finally pushed her onwards.

With a deep sigh, she rummaged in her bag for her keys and unlocked the door.

The house seemed quiet upon first examination, but then she heard a noise coming from the lounge, and assumed that Mark was in there. Ignoring her trembling hands, she made her way down the hall and opened the door -

It was a few seconds before she actually comprehended what she was seeing. Then, with a bolt of nausea, she realised that Mark and Olivia were entwined together on the couch, their clothes littering the floor. Everyone in the room froze. Then as she came to her senses, she gave a horrified gasp and pulled the door shut again, leaning against the hall wall, breathing hard in shock.

She felt as though her heart had been put in a blender.

It was not so much Mark she was upset about - she'd be a bit of a hypocrite if that was the case. No, it was Olivia. They had been best friends since school, and even though they hadn't been as close since Jenny had joined the ARC, she had still thought of her like a sister. They had traveled together when they were younger, Jenny had been the Maid-of-honour at her wedding, and she had been Jenny's. She felt numb - she couldn't take it in. She could hear them hurriedly scampering into their clothes again, and suddenly, an overwhelming feeling of anger took over.

She opened the door again to find them both dressed untidily, panting in unison in the middle of the room, both looking ashamed of themselves.

"Jen - " Mark began.

"Don't you 'Jen' me," she whispered venomously, fighting the urge to throw something at heavy at him. "Now that everything's buttoned and zipped, would one of you mind telling me how long this has been going on?"

"Jen - "

"How long Mark?" she repeated firmly.

"Seven months," Olivia squeaked from beside him.

Mark shot her a look of disbelief. "No . . ." he looked back up at Jenny. "She's - she's lying."

But Jenny had stopped listening - the betrayal was too much to take. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and turned away from them for a moment, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She only turned back to them once she had composed herself.

"So . . ." she began in a cracked voice, addressing Olivia. "When I came to you that time and told you I though Mark was having an affair, and you told me to stop being so paranoid, it was you the whole time?"

Olivia said nothing, but looked downwards to the floor, her face flushed.

"You just sat there, brazen as you like, telling me it was all in my head," Jenny continued, not backing down just because she refused to reply. "How - how could you even look me in the eye? How could you be my Maid-of-honour?"

"I felt terrible," Olivia whispered, her gaze still firmly on the floor.

"Oh did you now?" Jenny said in a hollow voice. "God, that must have been awful for you . . ."

"Jenny, this means nothing. It's you I want . . . this was just sex - nothing more," Mark stammered.

"You know what the funny thing is?" Jenny exclaimed to Mark, able to see the humour in the situation. "I was coming here to break things off between us. But you did that a long time ago - I just didn't know it. Anyway the point is that I don't even care about you . . . I expected it. But you," she spat at Olivia, who seemed to cower under her rage. "You were supposed to be my friend - "

"I am - "

"How could you be when you've been sneaking behind my back for months?" Jenny asked, her voice breaking with a sob.

"I'm sorry," Olivia cried.

"What about Matt?" Jenny pointed out, referring to Olivia's husband of three years.

"He - I . . ." she stammered. "I just couldn't help myself."

"No," Jenny said quietly, shaking her head. "I bet you couldn't."

"Listen!" Mark interjected again. "The only reason this started was because I thought you were screwing that guy you work with!"

Jenny opened her mouth, about to tell him that he'd been wrong - that she had only been unfaithful as of the other day, but she stopped herself - he didn't deserve an explanation off her. So what if he thought she was cheating? He could have confronted her about it, he could have ended things himself. But he didn't. He had been about to marry her, whilst he'd been sleeping with the woman who stood by her side at the alter, holding the wedding ring.

_Creep._

"You two are welcome to each other," she said shortly, turning and marching towards the door, only stopping to get one last little dig in. "By the way," she added to Olivia. "If I were you, I'd practice saying the phrase 'don't worry darling, it happens to ever man', because believe me, you'll be saying it a lot before long," she finished with a forced sweet smile, before taking off towards the door again. Sure, it was a low blow, but it's not like it was unfounded, and anyway, it did make her feel a bit better.

She could hear Mark following her, but she ignored him and pulled the door open.

She stopped dead.

There, with his hand hovering in the air as though he was just about to knock at the door, was Cutter.

"Nick?" she gapped, her stomach back flipping.

He smiled slightly. "I just wanted to see if you were okay. Your mum said you'd come home, and I just needed to know - " he stopped talking abruptly as his eyes traveled over her shoulder and resting on Mark, who was standing a few feet behind her.

Cutter's face turned from pleasantly happy to stony in two seconds flat.

"Nick - " Jenny began, knowing that he'd got the wrong end of the stick.

"No it's okay, message sent," he said gruffly as he turned and quickly descended the stairs.

"Nick, stop!" she shouted, giving Mark a look of disgust before taking off after Cutter.

He didn't look back, but continued walking at a brisk pace down the street, his hands clenched into fists.

"Nick, just wait a minute!" she yelled after him, struggling to keep up in her heels. "Let me explain!"

"No explanation necessary!" he bellowed, not looking around as he crossed the road.

"Nick, stop!" she begged, halting at the side of the pavement.

"Why?" he demanded, still looking like he had no intention of stopping.

"Because . . ." she stammered, struggling to find the words to make him stay. "Because I - because I love you, you moron!"

He froze on the other side of the road, and she followed suit, her heart hammering. After a moment, he turned slowly, looking as though he couldn't believe his ears. Jenny stared back at him, slightly out of breath, waiting for him to say something. True, screaming it at him in the street and using the word 'moron' in the sentence was not the way she'd envisioned telling him she loved him, but it was a fact either which way.

But by the way he was looking at her, she was beginning to think she'd made a horrible mistake. Why wasn't he saying anything? When someone says they love you, you don't just stand there gawping like an idiot. Unless - maybe he didn't feel the same way? Maybe he hadn't wanted to make something more substantial out of the relationship? Maybe he just saw it as a one night thing . . .

However, all of those thoughts were blown straight out her mind when he strode up to her, ignoring the fact that he'd narrowly avoided being knocked over by a car and was now being beeped at by a disgruntled looking man. He grabbed her face and pulled her into the most earth-shattering kiss of her life. It was as though he was telling her, without using words, that he loved her, and how relieved he was that she felt the same way. She didn't care that passing people, some of them her neighbours, had stopped and were watching with disapprovingly raised eyebrows. She didn't even think about the fact that Mark had seen everything and had retreated back into the house, slamming the front door shut. Her full attention was rapt by Cutter and Cutter alone. She wound one hand around his neck and rested the other on his back, pulling him closer. His hands still held her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheekbones as he kissed her forcefully.

Minutes went by - or it could have even been half an hour - and they broke apart, both completely breathless, staring into one another's eyes.

"I - I love you too," he said softly, his hand traveling back through her hair.

"I know you do," she breathed, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into another kiss.

Jenny didn't know what the hell she was going to do about the house that she and Mark co-owned. She didn't know what she was going to do about her mother, and she didn't know what she was going to do about the fact that today, she had cut three important people out of her life. But she did know that as long as she had Nick Cutter by her side, everything was going to be just fine.

Jenny knew exactly what she wanted now, and it just so happened that she was kissing him.

* * *

**THE END**

***sob* I really enjoyed writing this story and I'm sad that it's over, but relieved at the same time!**

**Thank you so much to all the people who reviewed! Your kind words of encouragement managed to squeeze a whole thirty-three chapters out of me :)**

**I've got another Nick/Jenny fic in the pipe line, but I'm a bit unsure about the storyline, so I'm hesitant to write it. But we shall see anyways XD **

**Thanks again!**

**Nikki x**


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